


Conviction

by OnceUponAWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:16:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2240337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceUponAWinchester/pseuds/OnceUponAWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After two years in prison, Dean Winchester finds himself confused about his life.  His best friend hasn't been in contact and his sexuality continues to be an on-going struggle.  This war is made worse by the fact that he's fallen prey to his own weaknesses and managed to start a physical relationship with Nathan- a tough spoken convict that could pass as Castiel's twin.<br/>What happens when his sentence ends and he must return to the real world and continue where he left off?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Weeks To Go

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress. I started it almost a year and a half ago, and I still manage to get some work done on it from time to time. But since I started it, I haven't watched Supernatural a ton, so the characters MAY (I hope they aren't though) out of tune. Feel free to let me know if you spot a problem-- or if you don't! I tend to write faster when I know people are waiting on more.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Dean was not really sure what to expect when he stepped beyond those severe fences. It had been two years. Two years of hard time, of desolation from the few people he loved and trusted. Sure, he'd managed to create a few passable relationships in his two years under lock and key, but his soul ached horribly for his brother, for Cas, hell, he even ached for Bobby's barbed affection.

 

Thinking back, Dean was surprised he didn't end up in prison sooner. After all the times his mug had been on the news with the words murder, kidnapper- hell, even bank robber; and he still made it so far. Sam had begged him to let the hunters help, to let Castiel help, Dean was sure he'd even heard Gabriel's name thrown in the mix. And despite the protests of one gargantuan little brother, one mouthy cripple and an angel with a chip on his shoulder- Dean was incarcerated.

 

He was positive that Castiel had ignored his wishes anyways. Who the hell gets two years with his rap sheet? He was pretty sure there were at least three charges of murder on it, maybe more, never mind everything else. 

 

There was a grunt from beside him and he was broken out of his thoughts, green eyes drifted left and Dean was greeted with the sight of a friend. One of only a few he'd made.

 

Nathan Pierce wasn't a big guy. In fact, he was rather scrawny. He was about a head shorter than Dean, with mousey black hair and eyes the color of the sky. Nathan glanced over and tipped his head slightly.

“What? What the fuck you looking at man, do I got something on my face?” He snapped, rubbing his delicate nose. Dean couldn't help but smile at the defensive attitude and he shook his head, gazing across the yard and squinting slightly.

“Nah, dude. Your face is fine. I was just thinking.” He murmured. Nathan rolled his baby blues and popped a cigarette between his lips.

“Stop starin' at me while you think. It's fuckin' creepy.” He snapped, lighting the cigarette in swift motion of his arm. Shaking the match, he tossed it carelessly onto the ground. Dean wrinkled his nose as the smoke made it's way over, the scent creeping into his nostrils. Sulfur. 

 

His eyes were drawn to the ground where the match smoldered and his stomach flipped for reasons he wasn't quite sure of. But being Dean, he swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his attention back to the fence. Nathan followed his eyes, then smirked slightly.

“I know what you're thinking. Two weeks man. You and me, just two more weeks.” He said, his voice thick with excitement. 

 

Nathan was almost done with a one year sentence for some sort of assault charge. Not a day after he'd entered the general population, Dean had been drawn to him. He tried to tell himself it was because the guy needed help, hell, Nathan had a personality and an ego that was entirely too big for his body.

 

But deep down, Dean knew it wasn't that. It was the way he looked. The way his blue eyes reminded him of Cas.

 

So Dean had protected him, ignoring the jeers of his fellow inmates. Sure, plenty of them thought that Nathan was his property, but as long as they thought that, the kid stayed safe. Dean had quickly made an impression on the prisoners, and it was one that earned him a decent amount of fear and respect.

 

Dean realized that he'd been silent a bit too long, and glanced Nathan's way.

“What are your plans?” He asked, his voice soft. Nathan considered it for a long moment. 

“Strippers and whiskey.” He finally replied, grinning at the older man. Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head, watching as Nathan sobered and gave a little shrug. “Nah man...my uncle owns an electronics store in Topeka...figured I'd go there with my tail between my legs and beg for a job.” He paused, flicking the loose ashes off of his smoke and glancing Dean's way. “You?”

 

Dean opened his mouth to reply, when a voice interrupted him.

“Damn ese, you should know the answer to that question already.” Alex spat, sitting across from the brunette at the picnic table. Alexander Olivera wasn't a large man, but Dean supposed that he was biased, having Sam for a brother was bound to make anyone appear small. Alex was a close second, he supposed, reaching about 6'3. And opposed to Sam's lean, athletic figure, Alex had spent most of his sentence bench pressing more than Nathan weighed. His square jaw was rough with stubble and his brown hair hung over his tan face. 

 

Dean nodded in greeting, secretly glad for the interruption. He honestly didn't know what he was going to do, hell, he wasn't even sure he had a ride when he got out of here. Sam sure wasn't going to pick him up, not being wanted himself.

 

“He's prolly gonna go to the nearest city and buy himself a woman! Fuckin two years without sex, man, that's what I'd do.” Alex nodded surely, causing Nathan to roll his eyes and turn to Dean, frowning a little.

“You didn't answer.” He said softly. Dean glanced at him and sighed, leaning back and rolling his shoulders.

“Damn, dude....I really don't know.”

 

———

 

The next week was the longest Dean had ever had the displeasure of experiencing. It seemed like every moment dragged on twice the time it should have, and he was sure it was only going to get worse. He couldn't seem to find anything that would hold his attention for more than a few minutes. He was experiencing this in spades as he lay on the stiff cot that had been his bed for the past years, his eyes squinting at the crossword in his hands. His eyes were staring at the text, unfocused.

“Hey ese, what are you doing?” Alex asked as he walked into the cell, picking at his orange jumpsuit. Dean glanced up, blinking a little. 

“Crossword, why?” He mumbled, looking confused. Alex glanced over before sitting at the table in their cell. He shrugged, rolling his shoulders.

“It's visiting day.” He explained. Dean shrugged, disinterested. He'd not had a single visitor (understandably so), since he'd been arrested. Alex seemed to know where his mind was going, because he grinned a little. “Cuz you know...warden said you had someone. Wanted me to send you down.”

 

Dean blinked, his eyes widening slightly. He wouldn't admit to the spur of hope that jumped in his chest, propelling his heartbeat higher.

“Huh?”

“You got a visitor, man. Two pretty mamacitas!” Alex made a growling noise and Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes slightly, standing up. But he couldn't be irritated, not with the news he just got. He tossed the crossword on the table and grinned, heading out. He heard the latino man chuckle behind him and shook his head, making his way down to the visitor's room as fast as possible. He nodded to the guards and pushed his way through the doors, looking around.

 

It had to be Ellen and Jo. It had to. They were the only women in his life that would come see him  here. His face broke out into a smile as he spotted them huddled at one of the white plastic tables in the corner. Jo spotted him and grinned, waving excitedly.

He rushed over and scooped both of them up into a bear hug, not caring about the verbal reprimand from the guard. However, when his tone changed from amused to irritated, Dean obediently stepped back. Jo beamed at him with affection in her eyes, her pretty face shining at him. Ellen gazed at him with a loving, maternal stare. He felt his heart swell slightly and sat down, waving for them to sit with them.

 

“What's up guys, why the surprise visit?” He asked, the smile never leaving his face. Jo practically bounced in her seat.

“Can't be just to see that smile again?” She replied in a flirty manner. Ellen glanced at her daughter and smiled faintly, before looking to Dean.

“We came to set up everything for when you get out.” She explained. She wasn't showing it nearly as much as her daughter, but there was excitement in her voice. Dean nodded, gazing at them.

 

“So what's the plan? Who's gonna nab me?” Ellen met his eyes and smiled.

“Well, that hasn't been established yet...” She paused and leaned forward, her voice quieting. “Sam wanted to be the one, but we've convinced him not to.”

 

Dean nodded, giving her a grateful smile.

“Thanks Ellen. He doesn't need to be anywhere around here.” He murmured. Ellen nodded and reached out, taking his hand and squeezing it lightly.

“You look good, Dean.”

 

Dean blinked and internally, he scoffed. He'd been imprisoned for two years, and forced to wear ORANGE for Christ sakes. There's no way he looked good. He gave Ellen a tight lipped grin and shook his head.

“Don't be hitting on me now, Ellen. Two years without physical contact and I'm liable to take you up on it.” He teased with a wink. Ellen scowled and slapped his hand, pulling hers out of his grasp as Jo laughed at them.

 

Dean glanced at her and had a very peculiar thought.

 

Shouldn't he be fighting his suppressed libido with Jo? Ellen was like a mother to him, but he'd always had a soft spot for sweet little Jo and those kissable lips. And yet, even after two years of no sex, he found himself no more attracted to her than her mother.

 

He furrowed his brow and stowed that thought away for a later time, before giving the girls a grin and grabbing Ellen's hand again, pressing her for information on the whole gang.

 

The rest of the visit was pleasant. It calmed Dean to have contact with his family, with people who weren't associated with the prison system.

 

Jo and Ellen assured him that there'd be someone outside the gates to pick him up when he was released, and they left with a hug and two kisses to the cheek.

 

Dean walked back to his cell with a grin on his face.

 

———

 

If there was one job that Dean hated- it was laundry.

Unfortunately, in prison, it only got ten times worse.

He shoved a load of sheets into an industrial washer and groaned, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The heat and steam down here was  horrible .

 

“Think fast!”

Dean swung around and was greeted with the sight of a water bottle hurtling towards his face. He barely had time to blink before it collided with his forehead and sent him stumbling back into the washer, blinking rapidly as he slid to the ground. A dull pain and a chilling coolness erupted on the point of impact and he blinked dumbly towards the point of origin.

 

Dean heard Nathan swear and smirked faintly as he scrambled over, bounding over a pile of dirty laundry.

“Fuck man, I'm sorry about that. You OK?” He gushed, falling to his knees near Dean, his blue eyes tinged in worry. “That was a stupid idea, I'm so fucking dumb sometimes.”

 

Dean watched silently as Nathan continued to ramble on in a self deprecating spiral. Those clear blue eyes were concerned and guilty, and something inside Dean's chest clenched painfully as the color took over his mind. Suddenly, he just. ..needed contact.

 

Grabbing the front of Nathan's jumpsuit, he pulled the smaller man forward and kissed him hard on the lips. Nathan went slightly rigid, his eyes wide. Dean's brain struggled to catch up, and once he realized what he was doing, he began to pull away; wide eyed and panicking. He met Nathan's eyes for a long moment, and then Nathan was kissing him, pulling him closer by the back of the neck. His fingers were curled into the short hairs at the base of his head and it stung in a way Dean wasn't aware he'd enjoy.

 

Dean groaned faintly and wrapped his arms around the slight man, deepening the kiss. It was hot and hard; all teeth and tongue, desperation pouring from both of them. Nathan shoved him backwards, climbing onto his lap and straddling him. Dean's lips broke away due to the shove and his head struck the washer. He winced and then sucked in a deep breath at the new found pressure on his groin. He looked up at Nathan, eyes wide and dark with lust. The smaller man licked his lips and arched a brow.

 

“Damn. If I knew you swung this way, I'd have done this a long time ago.” He stated, before beginning to kiss along Dean's jaw. Dean's stomach squirmed faintly and he opened his mouth to dispute his sexuality, to tell Nathan that he didn't swing this way; but his words were lost in a moan as Nathan discovered the sweet spot below his ear and latched on. He felt Nathan smile against his skin and couldn't help but shudder as he bit down, viciously marking the area.

 

Dean's head was stuck in a thick fog, the feeling of hands touching him, lips kissing him; a solid, warm body against his. It was too much for him to handle- it had been far too long since he'd had any action.

 

Nathan practically ripped his jumpsuit open, kissing down his chest and grinning slyly as he latched on to Dean's nipple, sucking hungrily. 

 

That was it.

 

Dean grabbed Nathan's arms and pushed him back, hissing in pleasure as teeth scraped against the sensitive skin. Nathan looked at him, eyes wide and confused. Dean didn't say anything, he just tossed him lightly on a pile of laundry and hovered over him, eyes predatory and dark in arousal. Nathan's confusion and fear visibly vanished, and he shivered at the look in Dean's eyes. Dean couldn't help as a smirk took over his face and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Clothes. Off. Now.” He growled into his cheek. Nathan gulped and nodded obediently, sitting up and dispatching of his jumpsuit and boxers. Dean watched him, confused by the arousal in his gut as he took in the view. Nathan was indeed scrawny, but not unattractively so, his skin soft and unmarred. Dean trailed his eyes down Nathan's chest and couldn't help but growl in approval when he saw the seven inches of hard length resting against his stomach. He licked his lips and met Nathan's eyes as he continued to undo his jumpsuit with trembling fingers. His arousal was getting to him, his erection throbbed in an almost painful manner, the embers in his stomach growing into a bonfire. Dean spat into his hand and spread it carefully over the sensitive skin of his dick, before lining himself up and looking into Nathan's eyes. His breathing was erratic, but he saw that Dean was waiting for permission or guidance on how to proceed and let out a low growl.

“Do it already. Fuck.” He hissed. Dean smirked.

“As you command.” 

 

Nathan yelped in pain as Dean pressed into him in one thrust. He'd feel guilty later about being rough. Right now he just needed to come. He needed the release of sex.

 

However, Dean managed to quell this desperate hunger long enough to allow Nathan to acclimate to his size before he pulled out and thrust back in. The man underneath him squirmed, whimpering, his brows knit in pain. A sliver of guilt broke through his lust and he stilled, looking down at Nathan in concern. Blue eyes opened and looked up at him, and he was allowed a grimace of a smile.

“Don't fucking stop now, Winchester, you've already committed to it.” He snarled, and Dean felt the heat rekindle in his stomach. He growled deeply and leaned down, kissing and sucking at the tender skin where neck meets shoulder. He began a slow pace, but it was a lost cause. He quickly unraveled, his thrusting becoming erratic and hard. Nathan began to moan underneath him, rolling his hips upwards, creating friction between his dick and Dean's stomach.. Dean shuddered, groaning into his skin as Nathan wrapped his legs around his waist. Nathan was so warm and tight and Dean's world was darkening around him. Warmth began to spread from his stomach outward, his fingers clenching into the skin of Nathan's hips. There would be bruises and scrapes in the morning. He could feel himself beginning to lose himself completely, and if the moaning and squirming underneath him was anything to go by, so was Nathan. 

 

Suddenly, Nathan jerked upward, his back arching as he gasped for air. Dean shuddered at the reaction, looking at the ecstasy on that face. Blue eyes looked at him, glazed and desperate.

 

“There. Harder, Dean.” He whined, and Dean was more than happy to comply. He angled himself to hit that spot with every thrust and soon Nathan was moaning nonsense underneath him, totally and completely gone. Nails dug into his back, raking trails down the skin as Nathan bit and sucked on any skin he could reach, marking Dean feverishly. Dean groaned, feeling himself tense up. He squeezed his eyes shut as Nathan's nails pinched into the skin of his arm until his knuckles were white. He let out a moan, and Dean could feel the muscles clenching around him as Nathan came in the space between them. Dean whimpered, thrusting through it, so close to climaxing himself. He felt hands on his face and he opened his eyes, staring down into two pools of clear blue.

 

Castiel.

 

Dean shuddered, and with a choked scream, he came hard into Nathan, gasping for air, his hips thrusting wildly. He collapsed, sweaty and exhausted onto the smaller man, spent.

 

Nathan laughed after a few minutes, and ran a hand up Dean's spine. The hunter shivered a little, and Nathan shifted to look at him, wincing in pain due to the rough, but pleasurable treatment. He leaned close and nibbled at Dean's earlobe.

“How about that water, Winchester?”

 

———

 

Over the next few days, Dean found himself thinking of that night. His stomach always clenched uncomfortably when he did, but he managed to chalk it up to the pressure of prison and the fact he'd not had sex in a very long while. Unfortunately, even he was beginning to have his doubts about that when he found himself consistently going back for more.

Every day, for the rest of his sentence, Dean would ravish Nathan in some desolate place in the prison. It wasn't particularly pleasurable for him, nor was it loving. It was teeth and spit and sometimes even blood. But no matter what happened, Dean always found himself orgasming with staggering force, a single thought in his mind. Castiel.

 

Dean was actually rather surprised he managed not to moan his name while he thrust into Nathan. But what shocked him was the fact that he was having these thoughts about his best friend.

 

Dean fiddled uncomfortably with the book he was reading, feeling a frown drop onto his face.

 

Was Castiel still his best friend? He wasn't sure. Dean had occasionally received letters from Sam under a false name, and Jo had written him regularly. Hell, even Bobby had found the time to pen a note or two.

 

But he hadn't heard a single thing from Cas.

 

Dean knew he was alive, because Sam always mentioned him in passing, the two had spent a lot of time hunting in his absence, and Dean was glad that they had each other. But his stomach squirmed uncomfortably at the thought that Castiel might have moved on.

 

“Why the sour face, sugar nuts?”

 

Dean glanced up at Nathan's bizarre greeting and frowned, giving a shrug. 

 

“Just thinking.” He murmured, sighing and throwing the paperback aside. Nathan walked over and sat next to him, leaning against him lightly. Dean's stomach flipped in discomfort at the contact, but he didn't pull away.

 

“We get out tomorrow...” Nathan reminded him. Dean glanced at him and was rewarded with a smile. “We could...I don't know. Do something.” Nathan laid a hand on his thigh and squeezed lightly. “It's a whole new beginning for us.”

 

Dean nodded, looking away. He couldn't breathe. There was no way that he could tell Nathan that there was no new beginning, no “us.” He just let it go, chewing on the inside of his lip. He had a feeling he'd made a terrible mistake. He didn't want to hurt Nathan, but this just couldn't exist. Nathan glanced at him and seemed to gather that something was wrong. However, he just squeezed Dean's thigh lightly, before standing and walking out.

 

Dean felt sick to his stomach as he watched him go, guilty with the knowledge that they had no future, that he felt nothing beyond friendship for him, that every time he came, Castiel's name was on the tip of his tongue.

 

He groaned and let his head fall into his hands.

 

“Son of a bitch.”


	2. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the hateful language in this one <3

Dean stood outside the prison gates, squinting in the bright sunlight. It was hot, and Dean could feel sweat starting to drip down his back. A nice breeze kicked up and he gave a thankful sigh, ignoring the fact that it caked sand to his face. He peered up and down the road leaning to the prison, frowning. He was starting to wonder if Ellen and Jo had gotten the day wrong, when he heard footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and frowned to see Nathan wandering out, holding a small bag of his things. He came to stop next to Dean and blinked, looking confused.“Where's your ride, man?” He asked softly. Dean shrugged a little, leaning against the fence. It was either wait or walk. Nathan was supposed to walk, and Dean would have joined him, but the heat was already baring down on him in a suffocating haze.

Just when he was about to give up, a familiar roar reached his ears. He grinned, looking down the road. A sleek black shape was speeding towards them. The Impala. His baby. He felt his heart swell and the grin on his face almost hurt. Nathan looked at him, then at the car as it stopped in front of them.

“Your ride, I presume.”

“Nope. My baby.”

 

Dean started towards the car, his eyes running up and down it like he was appreciating a beautiful woman. He barely paid any mind as the driver's door opened and shut.

 

“Hello, Dean.”

 

Dean's stomach lurched and he turned to see Castiel standing on the other side of the car, leaning against it with his arms folded across the roof. He was smiling at Dean, a blank little curious thing. Dean's eyes were starting to sting and he convinced himself it was the sand blowing around. Castiel tipped his head, and in one swift flick of his wrist he threw the keys to Dean.

 

“She's missed you.”

 

Dean blinked a little and looked at the keys he held in his hands, taking in the chipped Zeppelin key chain and smiling. He closed his palm, not caring that the key dug into his flesh uncomfortably. He looked back at Cas to find the angel staring at him with a staggering intensity. Dean felt a grin come back to his face and he walked around the front of the car and pulled Castiel into a tight hug. The shorter man let out a little grunt of surprise and laughed softly, returning the hug easily and patting him on the back.

“We've missed you Dean.” He mumbled, setting his forehead against Dean's chest. Dean gave him a squeeze.

“Ditto, Cas.”

 

Dean knew the moment when their embrace crossed the threshold from friendly into intimate. Normally, he would have pulled away, awkward and feeling insecure about his sexuality, but for some reason, all he did was hold Castiel tighter. He had missed the angel, his angel, more than he realized. He glanced down, appraising him.

 

The shorter man wasn't wearing his normal trench coat and Sunday suit- instead he donned fading blue jeans and a shirt that looked suspiciously familiar. He arched a brow, noting that the angel was wearing one of his shirts. For some reason, it gave him a peculiar warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something about Castiel in his clothing made Dean want to ravish him right then and there.

 

Someone clearing their throat broke Dean out of his mental ravaging of Castiel's kissable lips, a good thing, if the growing pool of heat in his stomach was any hint. Dean glanced over his shoulder to see Nathan staring at him, a weird sort of anger in his eyes.

 

Dean licked his lips, carefully releasing Cas and stepping back. Right. That situation.

 

He wanted to leave his arm around Cas, but he knew he couldn't. He stood with his hands hanging awkwardly at his sides as Castiel looked to Nathan. He started to smile, his polite, excited 'I'm meeting new people' puppy smile, and then stopped. Dean could see the gears working in his head as Cas looked from Nathan's eyes, to Dean. Dean felt his neck heat up and he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably as Castiel's eyes locked onto a fading hickey on Dean's throat.

 

Castiel was silent, and Nathan must have sensed something, because he strode over, taking Dean's arm and holding it close, smiling in a poisonously sweet way and offering a hand.

“Nathan Pierce. I'm Dean's.... _friend_.”

 

Castiel's eyes, narrow and demanding answers, sought out Dean's. Dean felt a peculiar and disgusting squirm of guilt in his gut, and he found himself in a very, very difficult position.

 

He was honestly more worried about hurting Castiel- the man had been his friend longer, and Dean would go to the ends of the earth for him. But honestly, Dean felt he owed Nathan something besides pity.

 

While they had never really discussed a relationship, per say, continued sex usually warranted Dean putting his lovers on that level. And Dean wasn't cruel, he wouldn't toss Nathan aside now that he didn't 'need' him any longer.

 

So he swallowed and put on the best smile he could and shrugged a little.

 

“Nathan, this is Castiel. Cas, meet Nathan.” He introduced. Castiel's eyes hardened and Dean winced internally. He hated when Cas looked at him with that hard, witheringly disappointed look.

 

Dean watched as Castiel turned to Nathan, presumably to greet him, the ever polite angel, and smiled sweetly.

 

However, the words that fell out of his mouth shocked Dean to his core.

 

“Always nice to meet the newest whore.” And with that, Castiel reached out and snatched the keys from Dean's hand. “I'm presuming said whore needs a ride into town?” He stalked over to the driver's side and slid in, slamming the door. Dean winced at the noise, torn over whether it was the implication of Castiel's reaction or the harsh treatment of his baby that bothered him more, and glanced at Nathan. His eyes were slits and dark with anger. He looked at Dean for some sort of explanation.

 

“What the hell, man?” He hissed, using his grip on Dean's arm to turn them away from the car. Dean frowned and glanced over his shoulder. Castiel was currently scowling and distracting himself with adjusting the mirrors.

 

He sighed and glanced at Nathan

“I have no idea, dude. I'm really sorry, he's usually as sweet as a puppy.”

“Some puppy.” Nathan growled, before releasing Dean and crossing his arms, staring in Cas's direction. “I want to kick his ass.”

 

Dean stared at him, feeling a tide of protectiveness surge through his body.

“Nathan, stop. Castiel is one of my best friends.” He snapped, causing Nathan's eyes to fall on him. The smaller man let out a frustrated grunt and opened his mouth to speak.

 

“Damn it. Get in the car, lovebirds!” Castiel interrupted with a shout. Nathan shut his mouth and glanced at him.

 

“Fine. For now.” He hissed, before walking over and climbing in the back seat. Dean sighed, climbing into the front seat and settling back. Castiel started the car and tore off, heading towards town.

 

The ride was silent, and for that, Dean was thankful. Although the silence was thick and awkward, Dean was just happy that Nathan and Castiel weren't shouting at each other or passing insults back and forth. Dean couldn't help but gaze as Cas while he drove, each movement confident and smooth as he shifted gears and used the clutch.

 

Not only was he impressed- the last time he saw Cas drive, he'd stalled the Impala repeatedly until Dean took away the keys- but he found himself liking it. It was simply erotic. Cas was driving his car.

 

Dean swallowed and looked out the window, shutting his eyes. Why the hell was he focusing so much on Castiel? He was uncomfortably reminded of the fact that the only way he could climax with Nathan was by focusing on the similarities between the two men, by pretending Nathan _was_ Cas.

 

Dean shifted uncomfortably, and completely missed the hateful glare that the two men in the car shared.

 

It seemed like the twenty minute ride took hours, but finally he felt the Impala slowing down and pulling into a parking lot. Dean opened his eyes as Castiel turned off the car, and looked around. They were parked in a lot outside a cozy looking restaurant.

 

Dean shot Cas a confused look and the angel met his eyes with a blank stare.

 

“Sam.” He explained, undoing his seat belt. “Plus we thought you'd like something other than prison food.” He added in a murmur, glancing at him, then over his shoulder at Nathan. “Bring your boyfriend in with you.” He said stiffly, before slipping out of the car and walking towards the restaurant. Dean took a deep breath, his stomach turning from anticipating a delicious bacon burger, to twisting sickly at the word boyfriend. He heard Nathan exit the car and watched as he leaned on the door, peering in the open window.

“I think he's jealous...” He said suddenly. Dean's eyes snapped up, blinking rapidly.

“What? Why would you say that?” He breathed in confusion. Nathan gave him a tight smile.

“Oh please, Dean. He wants to fuck your brains out. The only reason he hates me is because I get to.” He explained, lighting a cigarette and taking a few quick drags as Dean stared at the door Castiel had disappeared through, his heart pounding against his chest. He was trying to figure out why he had butterflies throwing a rave in his stomach when Nathan tossed aside his cigarette and pulled his door open with a rough touch that ticked Dean off a little.

“C'mon man, I'm starving and I know you are too.” He urged, grinning at Dean. Dean met his eyes and blinked, smiling faintly.

“Right.”

 

———

 

As soon as Dean walked into the restaurant, he was enveloped in a bear hug and lifted straight off his feet. Sam hugged him tightly across the chest and set him back down, but not releasing him.

Dean choked out a laugh.

“Sam....Sammy! Let me go, I can't breathe!” He gasped, somewhere in the background he heard Castiel chuckle and Sam sheepishly let him go, giving a grin that made his face go full out dimples.

“Sorry Dean, I just....missed you.” He mumbled, looking embarrassed as he stood there, limbs seeming too big and awkward. Dean grinned, feeling his heart swell in that sweet way again, and he saw a glimpse of his little Sammy. He clasped a hand onto Sam's bicep and met his eyes.

“I always knew you had ovaries, Samantha.” He said with a smirk. Sam's smile widened to an impossible point and he shook his head.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

 

Sam looked at him for a moment, eyes bright, then tugged him into another hug, squeezing him tightly. Dean laughed and pat his back, before pulling away. Sam beamed at him for a minute, before spotting Nathan. Dean could tell that Sam had heard about him, but unlike Cas, Sam offered a friendly smile and his hand.

“You must be Nathan. I'm Sam, Dean's brother.” He greeted. Nathan shook his hand, his eyes open enough and warm, but he shot a gaze at Dean

“Your **little** brother?” He asked incredulously, causing Dean to burst into laughter. Sam gave a chuckle, but Castiel was silent. He just looked at the situation in an utterly bored manner.

 

Sam gave a bashful shrug,

“What can I say? I was just blessed in areas Dean wasn't.” He explained with a cheeky smirk as he took a step back. Dean scowled at him.

“You wish.”

 

Sam merely looked at him in amusement and hooked an arm around Cas's shoulders. Dean felt his head tip at the peculiar gesture, but wrote it off. The two had clearly grown closer in his absence. He was glad they'd had each other.

 

A pretty waitress with a name tag that said Brenda wandered over, batting her eyelashes at the group of attractive men. None of them responded. She gave a little pout and fiddled with her menus

“A table for four?” She asked softly, causing Sam to glance her way.

“Yes, thank you.” He muttered, she smiled

“This way.”

 

Brenda slipped by Sam and started towards the back of the restaurant. Sam led Cas that way, and Dean could have swore the angel was _leaning into him_. He shook his head and discarded the thought. It was preposterous.

 

The waitress got them situated in a nice table, Sam and Cas on one side, and the two cons on the other side. She distributed the menus and trotted away. Dean jumped at his glass of water, too thirsty for this emotionally charged stuff.

 

Nathan looked at the menu for a moment, his eyes interested, before he looked up and smiled blankly at Castiel and his brother.

 

“So how long have you two been together?”

 

Dean choked on his water, dribbling it down his front in a remarkably slobbery manner. He coughed violently, setting the glass down. All eyes were on him in concern, but he waved a hand and shook his head, looking at Nathan as he cleared his throat.

 

“Nathan, they're not--”

“About oh...” Sam paused and glanced at Cas, who arched a brow faintly and smirked.

“Ten, Sam.” He supplied. Sam blushed and shot him an apologetic smile, glancing at Nathan

“Ten months.”

 

Dean felt his jaw hit the floor as Sam wrapped his arm around Castiel's shoulders and pressed a kiss into the messy dark hair.

 

Jealousy burned angrily in his stomach as he stared at them with wide eyes. Sam looked at his brother and gave a sheepish smile.

“I wanted to tell you in person.” He explained, his eyes soft. Dean made a choked noise and gave his best attempt at a smile, managing a grimace at best.

 

His best friend and his little brother? Cas and Sam? Sammy and... _his angel_?

 

Dean swallowed hard, looking between the two men he'd willingly die for, feeling a horrible mixture of jealousy and betrayal. After a moment, his eyes fell to his lap and he swallowed again.

“s'cuse me.” He muttered, before standing and shimmying past Nathan. He needed out. Away. Away from that sickeningly cute smile Sam was giving Cas, and the way Cas was looking at his brother. He needed to breathe, suddenly the restaurant's air was as thick as molasses.

 

He stumbled his way to the door and out to the Impala, falling forward and taking long, gasping breaths. When he was finally convinced he wouldn't suffocate, he groaned and slammed his head onto the roof of the car.

 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

 

He didn't even know WHY he was stupid! His stomach clenched and unclenched uncomfortably and a hand fell onto his shoulder.

 

Dean swung around, panicking a little. Out of the three people at the table, he certainly wasn't expecting Nathan to be the one that followed him out. He was looking up at Dean with concern in his eyes.

 

“What's wrong, Dean?” He asked softly, peering at him. “You can't possibly be upset that your brother is gay.” Dean narrowed his eyes at the clear 'because you like cock so much' at the end of that sentence. Nathan shifted a little and sighed, leaning against the car next to him.

“It's not about him being gay. Fuck, as long as Sam was happy, I wouldn't care if he were fucking a horse.” He snapped, looking at the ground with angry eyes.

 

So what was the problem? Dean didn't think it was surprise- Sam never had a whole lot of interest in women after what happened to Jessica. And he certainly seemed to be happy with Cas-- not only that, Dean knew the angel would take care of his little brother with an almost suffocating loyalty.

 

He swallowed, shaking his head and putting his face in his hands.

 

“So the way I see it, you're jealous.” Nathan said suddenly, a hardness to his voice. Dean blinked and looked at him.

“What?”

 

Nathan sighed in frustration and turned to him, looking irritated.

“You're jealous of your brother.” He clarified, raising a dark brow in a look that clearly said ' _get it now, stupid_?'

 

Dean stared at him, his head pounding. This little fucker was making no sense.

“Why the HELL would I be jealous of Sam?” He snapped, looking at Nathan like he was an absolute idiot. The expression wasn't lost on the smaller man, but he obviously didn't seem to care. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and taking his sweet time to do so. Dean growled at him and he rolled his eyes.

“You want Castiel, Dean. You're jealous of Sam because you want Castiel.”

 

Dean stared at him, a sinking feeling in his gut. Was it that obvious? Dean caught that thought and shook his head to clear it. He did NOT want Castiel. Castiel was his best friend and he WASN'T gay. Whereas Dean's original reaction was to laugh and lie lie lie, it quickly morphed into a violent rage. He narrowed his eyes on Nathan, his gaze withering. Nathan stared at him, seeming confused.

“I. Am. Not. Gay.” Dean growled, his fists clenching. Nathan's stare just continued, and then he blinked and began to laugh uproariously, slapping his thighs as he descended into hysterics.

“Not gay.” He choked, laughter bubbling from his lips. “Oh god, that's precious.”

 

Dean snarled and easily grabbed Nathan by his shirt and slammed him against the Impala, his vision turning red.

“I am not a faggot.” He hissed viciously. Nathan stared down at him, and began to laugh again. Dean blinked and something snapped, he gave Nathan a rough shake and slammed him against the car again. “Stop laughing, you little asshole!”

 

Nathan just laughed harder, tears leaking from his eyes.

“Dean. You've had my COCK IN YOUR MOUTH.” Nathan shouted incredulously. Dean stared down at him and his grasp tightened until his knuckles were white. Nathan's laughter seemed to be done for now, and he looked up at Dean with serious eyes. “Honestly, Winchester. How can you fuck a guy daily for almost a week straight and then claim you're not gay?? It's _ridiculous_.”

 

Dean swallowed hard, and found he couldn't answer that question. Not in the least. He felt himself drop Nathan, who leaned comfortably against the car as if Dean hadn't intimidated him at all. He peered up at him with clear, concerned blue.

“You OK?”

“I'm...not gay.” Dean choked, putting a hand over his eyes, feeling sick. Nathan made a soft, sympathetic noise.

“Dude...you kinda are.” He disagreed gently, setting a soft hand on his arm. Dean looked at him, letting his hand fall to his side. Nathan gave him a tiny smile. “Trust me. You're at least bi, man. No one can do what we did and claim to be straight.”

 

Dean swallowed hard and looked at the ground, confused and feeling isolated. Nathan shook his head and scoffed.

“Come here, you fucking idiot.” He snapped, before pulling Dean into a hug. He was stiff for a moment, before he shut his eyes and fell into the human contact. Nathan held him, hand rubbing his lower back for a moment, then he pulled back just enough to peer up at him. “You OK?”

Dean didn't trust himself to speak, so he just swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. Nathan sighed and leaned up, kissing him softly. It didn't feel right at all. This level of intimacy wasn't something he wanted with Nathan. But instead of pulling away, he went with it, morphing it into something impersonal and rough, shoving Nathan against the car and kissing him hungrily.

 

Neither man saw Castiel standing at the door of the restaurant, a defeated look on his face.

 

 


	3. Revelations

Sam sighed, coming to a stop next to his friend, glancing from his very preoccupied brother, then to Castiel's face. His heart hurt for him, because he knew how Castiel must feel about this. He shook his head faintly.

“What did you expect to happen, Cas?” He asked, his voice gentle. Cas swallowed, looking at Sam with hard eyes. He gave a half-hearted shrug.

“Jealousy? Possessiveness? I don't know. It was stupid to think that Dean would care.” Castiel murmured distantly, before turning and walking back into the restaurant, ignoring Dean as he pulled away from Nathan. Sam frowned and walked after Cas, grabbing his arm gently.

“Hey hey, now.” He corrected, turning the man to him. “Don't you go using that tone on me, again. We've gotten past that. You are not going into a depression like after you fell.” Sam corrected, that same soft, gentle tone. Cas licked his lips and looked up into Sam's eyes.

“I can't help it, Sam.” He said softly, before looking at his work boots. Sam sighed and took his chin, tipping it up so Cas had to meet his eyes again.

“We've talked about this, Cas. Dean...” Sam paused and shook his head a little. “Dean cares for you. Very much. But feelings aren't something he's good at dealing with.”

“If he cares for me so much, then why didn't he do anything about this?” Cas demanded as he gestured between them, causing Sam to squint a little.

“Cas, man...Dean isn't going to jeopardize something if he's under the impression it makes you happy, I told you that...” He explained, pursing his lips. “Besides. He did. He stalked out of here like we'd kicked him in the stomach.”

 

Castiel frowned, looking like he wanted to latch on to that hope, but obviously hesitant to. Sam sighed and shook his head, pulling him into a hug. Cas responded by burying his face into Sam's chest.

“Can we please keep pretending...just for now? Just until I figure out what to do?” He murmured against Sam's flannel. The taller man looked slightly exasperated, but it melted off his face as Cas looked up with two big blue eyes of pleading. “I don't want him to know we lied. Not yet. Not when he's already so upset.”

 

Sam groaned and shut his eyes, running a free hand over them in irritation, before letting it drop back around Castiel's waist.

“I'll probably regret it, but fine. Gabe's not going to like it though.” He relented grumpily, before opening his eyes and giving Cas an amused smirk. “It might be hard though. Pretending. I mean...we only went on a few dates and never got past third base. How the hell are we supposed to pretend we've been sleeping with each other for ten months?”

 

Castiel blushed and gave Sam a grumpy and disapproving look.

“Acting. You know that thing you do on a semi daily basis?” He grumbled, before setting his cheek back against Sam's broad chest. Sam sighed and looked at a loss, rubbing Cas's back lightly and pressing a soft kiss into his hair.

 

The restaurant door opened and Dean walked in, a slyly grinning Nathan attached to his arm. Dean didn't look happy, but he didn't look upset. In fact, Sam noted that Dean was working very, very hard to not look anything.

 

His brother's green eyes fell upon the sight of Cas burrowed into his chest and Sam watched knowingly as jealousy flared, before being beaten down and replaced with an easy, fake smile.

“Can we eat now?”

 

———

 

Sam leaned into the seat comfortably, eyes squinted against the sun. Cas sat beside him, drumming anxiously on his thighs.

 

Leaving the restaurant, Dean had insisted on driving, and Castiel relented, knowing how much he really wanted to. A few hours later and they were in Topeka.

 

Cas squinted through the windshield, straining to see past the late afternoon sun beaming through it.

“What the fuck is taking so long.” He growled under his breath. Sam glanced at him, frowned, and peered out the window.

 

Dean and Nathan were standing, talking seriously, near the Impala. Sam couldn't hear what they were saying, nor read the expressions on their faces.

“I dunno, Cas.” He admitted, narrowing his eyes as Nathan grinned, grabbed Dean's arm, and pulling him closer, leaning up to whisper in his ear. Cas let out a little growl and Sam watched as Dean shot him a little thumbs up and was pulled into a nearby townhouse.

 

Sam groaned, letting his head fall back against the seat. He did not need this shit. His brother was making his life SO much harder than it needed to be, as usual.

 

Cas looked at him with hard eyes.

“Why did they go inside?” He snarled, his eyes desperate. Sam sighed, looking down at him. Cas was still naive in many ways, but Sam knew that he understood exactly what had just happened, and he just didn't want to swallow it. He licked his lips and attempted to protect his friend's fragile heart.

 

“I'm sure they're just saying good bye or exchanging numbers or something.” He lied, giving a weak smile. Cas gladly grabbed onto that shred of hope and smiled weakly, nodding.

“Exchanging numbers. Right.” He said shakily, before looking out the window.

 

Sam's excuse sort of fell apart after twenty minutes of no Dean.

 

He glanced over at Castiel, expecting a depressed puddle, and was surprised to find him staring out the window with angry, hard eyes.

 

“Cas?”

 

The former angel didn't stir at all, but judging from the twitch on the side of his jaw, he heard him.

 

“I should have just stuck with you.” He replied in a deadly calm voice. Sam furrowed his brows.

“Huh?”

 

Castiel looked at him, blank. It scared the shit out of Sam.

“I should have just stuck with you, Sam. You actually cared for me. You appreciated me. But I pushed you away because you weren't Dean.” He hissed, shooting a withering glare at the door of the townhouse. Sam blinked and opened his mouth to remind him again of how Dean cared for him, about how their relationship wouldn't have worked. Sure, as much as Sam cared for Cas, he wasn't the person Cas wanted. Trying to force it wouldn't have been right, they would only have ended up resenting each other. But he didn't have a chance to get any of this out, because Cas was on top of him, kissing him fiercely. Sam yelped in surprise as his friend's lips moved against his, insistent and hungry. He groaned softly and placed his hands on Cas's shoulders, pushing him away.

“Cas.” He reprimanded softly. Castiel's blue eyes peered up at him, sparkling in hurt.

“Don't you care about me, Sam?” He whispered, his voice weak. Sam looked at him, and realized that the blank look earlier, the anger, it was all a mask. Cas was crumbling before his very eyes. He frowned and gave Cas's shoulder a light squeeze.

“Hey. Cas, man, you know I do. You're family. You're my friend. I care for you very much.” He reassured. Cas's eyes met his, blurred with tears and pleading him.

“Then show me. Please. I need to feel it.” He whimpered. Sam swallowed hard, his stomach clenching. He felt the weight of guilt in his stomach as he made his decision. He bit his lip and sighed, finally nodding. Cas smiled sadly, his eyes so many shades of ashamed, but before he could say anything, Sam pounced. He didn't want anything else to leave Castiel's lips, he didn't want any more time for either of them to continue thinking. He felt his friend's hurt and as much as he knew it would likely backfire for himself, he wanted to quell that pain.

 

Sam grabbed Cas's shoulders and pulled him close, kissing him hungrily. Castiel shuddered, leaning into the touch with a noise of approval. Sam cradled his head, winding his fingers into his hair and letting his free arm fall to Cas's waist. The former angel made a noise of hunger and desperation, drawing Sam's bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it lightly. Sam shuddered, pleasure shooting down his spine, groaning as teeth scraped lightly against his lip. And then Castiel's tongue was nudging his lips apart and lightly darting across his own. Sam had forgotten how good of a kisser the smaller man was; he had been a fast, observant learner and Sam had always enjoyed their make out sessions immensely.

 

The need to soothe Castiel slowly disappeared into the back of his mind along with his guilt, being covered by a thick and delicious blanket of arousal. He started to press Cas down onto the backseat, but Cas grunted and shook his head. He knew Sam would never be able to lay that way comfortably, so instead, he pushed the man back, his lips breaking from Sam's with a wet pop. Sam was breathing hard, staring at him with dark eyes. Cas bit his lip, looking over the man as his chest heaved; Sam was gorgeous, and Castiel wasn't ashamed to admit he was attracted to him. Cas shifted forward, straddling Sam's legs and capturing his mouth again. Sam groaned, grinding his hips up. Castiel shivered as he felt the man hardening underneath him, his own stomach burning in arousal and need. His pants were beginning to feel way too tight, and Sam's hands roaming under his shirt, scratching at his skin and rubbing slow circles wasn't helping. He whimpered softly, rocking into Sam, gasping as he broke away and beginning to kiss and suck along Castiel's jaw and down his neck. Sam's hand slipped out of his shirt and pulled the neck of his shirt aside, latching onto the skin where his neck met his shoulder, he knew it drove Cas crazy.

 

The former angel's head fell back and he let out a moan, pressing down and rolling his hips. Sam growled and bit down, eliciting another moan and causing the man's hand to slip down, hurriedly working the fly of Sam's jeans.

 

His skin crawled with anticipation and he swallowed hard, sucking desperately at Castiel's skin.

 

Suddenly, someone coughing broke through their daze and Sam released his hold on Castiel's skin, an angry mark already appearing. He gazed over his shoulder and his eyes widened as he saw Dean staring at them from the passenger's window. He met his brother's eyes and froze, terrified by the anger he saw there.

 

Cas glanced over his shoulder and paled,

“Dean!” He yelped, jumping off of Sam like he was made of lava. Dean's eyes snapped off of his brother and looked at Cas, softening-- just barely. He scowled, letting out a low growl as he saw Sam trying to discreetly pull up his fly, his guilt consuming him hungrily. Cas looked like he was panicking, frozen like a deer in the headlights. His breathing was starting to quicken and Sam was well aware he was beginning to hyperventilate.

 

“God damn it.” He spat, shifting and grabbing Cas's arms in his hands. “Cas. Castiel, look at m—what the fuck! DEAN!” Sam shouted as his brother tried to drag him out of the Impala by his ear. Dean yanked as Sam struggled, earning a pained yelp and begrudging obedience. Sam allowed himself to be pulled out of the car and pressed against it with a firm shove. Sam glanced at Cas through the window worriedly, frowning as the angel's breathing got even shallower, his eyes more and more glazed. Dean grabbed his chin and forced him to meet his eyes, green blazing in fury.

“What. Are you doing.” He snarled. Sam stared at him, jerking his chin out of the grasp. His eyes ran over Dean's form- the messy hair, hickeys, the swollen lips, the red mark on his cheek, the fact that his shirt was obviously inside out. Sam felt his eyes narrow.

“None of your business, Dean.” He hissed. Dean growled as Sam tried to get back into the Impala and shoved him violently back.

“No, this IS my fucking business! How dare you sit down here and try to DEFILE CAS?” He roared, Sam stared at him and felt anger beginning to grip his stomach. He clenched his jaw.

“Castiel didn't seem to mind, Dean.” He said stiffly. Dean looked at him, incredulous.

“Of course he didn't! He's an _angel_ Sam! He probably doesn't even know what you were--”

“You don't even know what you're talking about, Dean.” Sam snapped, rudely interrupting his brother. Dean's eyes widened and his lips pulled back in a snarl.

“Don't I? Cas can't POSSIBLY comprehend what was about to happen!”

“Dean, you barely fucking KNOW Cas anymore! It's been two fucking years, you can't just walk back in and start barking orders.”

 

Dean's eyes hardened and he gave Sam a look.

“That's not my fault. It's not my fault that he didn't write. That he didn't come to visit me. It's NOT MY FAULT.” Dean screamed, grabbing Sam by his shirt and shaking him. Something snapped in Sam, and he grabbed his brother, easily overpowering him with the element of surprise on his side, and slamming him as hard as he could against the car. Dean gasped in pain and fought against him, but Sam held strong, pressing his arm to Dean's throat and ignoring his choking growl.

“Then who's fault is it, you arrogant FUCK. We TRIED to help you! There were other solutions, but you had to be SO FUCKING STUBBORN THAT YOU COULDN'T SEE THEM. YOU REFUSED TO ACCEPT HELP BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO BUSY CONVINCING YOURSELF THAT YOU DESERVED TO BE PUNISHED!” Sam roared, his face inches from Dean's. Dean turned his head in disgust as spit sprayed across his face. He tried to shove Sam away.

“Let me go, Sam.” He wheezed, his tone a warning. Sam practically pressed them together, his face hovering in his brother's

“I don't think you comprehend the full weight of your decisions, Dean. You don't seem to understand how much you affected, hell, how you _hurt **everyone**_ by leaving. You CHOSE to leave us, Dean! You BROKE CASTIEL'S HEART. So don't you EVER. EVER ACCUSE ME OF PUTTING HIM IN DANGER.” Sam looked him in the eye, his narrowed, face hot with rage. “Because _you're_ the one that did that.”

 

With that harsh whisper, Sam shoved him away roughly and climbed back into the back seat, pulling Cas closer and murmuring comforting words for him. From a bag on the floor, Sam produced a pill bottle with a torn off label and a bottle of water, feeding a capsule to Cas and allowing him to wash it down.

Sam felt Dean's eyes on his back as he whispered soft assurances to Castiel, promising him he would be OK, that everything was fine and Sam wouldn't leave. Castiel's breathing regulated, and he let out a soft groan, his eyes falling closed as his head fell against the window. Sam nodded faintly.

“That's right, Cas. Sleep...” He patted the angel's leg and started to pull away, carefully laying Castiel on the back seat, pulling his trench coat from the duffel and tucking it under his arm. The man murmured and hugged the coat, sighing softly, and Sam nodded, satisfied. He gently shut the door and turned to see Dean, looking at Cas in confusion.

“Why is he sleeping?” He asked softly. Sam pursed his lips and shrugged.

“The Valium always does that to him.” He said, standing in front of his brother and feeling awkward now that his anger had faded. Dean looked at him, his eyes soft in concern.

“Why is Cas on Valium?”

 

Sam sighed and leaned against the Impala, rubbing his face tiredly.

“He has a lot of...unresolved issues. Guilt, fear, anxiety...the valium balances it out when needed.” Sam explained softly, looking at his brother. Dean swallowed hard and looked sad and confused.

“Why...does he need to be on Valium though? Wouldn't his....angel-y mojo just cancel out the chemicals?” He asked. Sam's eyes softened a little, frowning a little.

“Dean....Cas fell about two months after you went to prison...” He murmured, feeling awkward that he had to be the one to explain. Dean's eyes widened and Sam saw his jaw go slack. He swallowed hard and shook his head. He was silent for a while, allowing the information to sink in. Finally, he looked up, his eyes sadder than Sam had remembered seeing them in years.

“Why?”

Sam pursed his lips and shook his head.

“He cared for a human more than he did for heaven.”

 

Dean looked at him for a long moment, and nodded.

“I'm happy for you both.” He choked out, putting on a weak smile. Sam blinked rapidly

“What? No, not---”

“Sam. It's OK.” Dean's smile strengthened and he put a hand on Sam's arm. “I really am happy. You don't need to try and explain or anything. Let's go find a motel so Cas doesn't have to sleep in the Impala.”

 

Dean released him and walked around to the drivers seat. Sam watched him go, feeling at a loss as he watched his older brother miss the point yet again.

 

Cas and Dean were going to be the death of him. Sam sighed heavily and climbed in.

“No need. We have a place around two hours from here.” Sam murmured, tired of everything in his life by this point. Dean looked at him, blinking a little, then tipped his head.

“Point the way, Sammy.”

 

———

 

An hour and forty five minutes later, the Impala was pulling into the driveway outside a small single story duplex. Dean parked the car, peering at the house. It was quaint, a nice blue color that was barely visible in the night. The porch in front of the drive had a few wicker chairs and was blooming with tons of plant life. Ivy, herbs, vegetables, flowers, hell, there were even roses planted in a row lining the porch. Dean arched a brow, glancing towards the other side of the duplex. It was a dank yard, no plants, and the lawn barely looked like it had been mowed in years. Sam glanced at him, seeming to know what he was thinking.

 

“Cas likes gardening.” He said simply. Dean smiled faintly.

“Sounds about right.” He chuckled, before turning the car off. There was a rustling noise in the backseat.

“Sam?” Cas whispered, his voice huskier than usual from sleep. Sam glanced over his shoulder.

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Where are we?”

 

Sam smiled faintly.

“We're home.” He said soothingly. Cas let out a little grunt of approval as he fell back asleep. Sam shook his head and laughed, climbing out of the car.

 

The brothers gathered up their belongings, then turned to the former angel curled up in the backseat. Sam hitched the duffel higher onto his shoulder and looked at Cas. Dean smiled a little.

“You two are good together, man, I can see that.” He murmured. Sam gave a frustrated sigh.

“God _damn_ it, Dean!” He snapped, Dean jumped away, eyes wide and confused

“What?? I just....” He trailed off, looking confused. Sam growled.

“Cas and I aren't dating! The manipulative little shit was trying to make you JEALOUS.” His voice was exhausted, frustrated, begging his brother to finally just get it. Dean just blinked at him,

“But...you were...in the back seat...”

 

Sam paused as his stomach lurched and put on a frown, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily.

“He...” Sam broke off and sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Look Dean. About six months after Cas fell, we went on a couple of dates and fooled around a little.” Sam took a breath, trying to ignore the jealousy sparking in his brother's eyes. “It never really amounted to anything, and we decided we should just stay friends! It was a mutual decision! I haven't touched him in over a year! Tonight was just...” Sam chewed his lip a little. “Cas was really upset about your displays with Nathan. He was...looking for affection, trying to drown himself in someone who cared. He managed to push all the right buttons and I just sort of....lost...control.”

 

Dean watched him, mouth set, as he trailed off, ashamed in his explanation.

“Sam, I have a question.” He said slowly. His voice was rigid, but Sam knew it could go either way at this point. He nodded meekly for Dean to continue. “Did you two ever....?”

 

Sam's eyes snapped open and he blushed deeply, shaking his head vehemently.

“No. No no no no no. We never got past a little friendly touching. Cas is still 100% un-defiled.” Sam rushed, his face hot. Dean blinked a little and seemed amused.

“Well. That...” He couldn't help it, he started to laugh. Sam grew brighter, hanging his head. Slowly, Dean's laughter subsided and he wiped his eyes, shaking his head. He swallowed and smiled at Sam.

“In that case, can I?” He asked, gesturing towards the man curled up in the car. Sam blinked, then grinned, his face still pink.

“Nah man. Go ahead. He's all yours...” With that, Sam turned and walked up onto the porch and unlocked the door, disappearing inside.

 

Dean smiled faintly and crouched at the door, looking at Castiel intently. The past week had been a very confusing time for him, and looking back, he realized that he did what he always did when overwhelmed by feelings.

 

Threw himself into meaningless sex.

 

Dean winced as he touched at the bruise beginning to form on his cheek. Nathan had not appreciated being called Castiel in the least.

 

Dean was actually rather surprised it hadn't happened sooner. He smiled faintly, watching as Castiel gave a little snort of air and shifted, nuzzling his cheek against his coat. Dean shook his head slowly.

 

All things aside, Dean was tired. He was tired and he was scared.

 

He'd long since realized that his tastes didn't always lay in the ladies. But it had taken him so many years to admit it to himself, and he still hadn't allowed himself to believe it didn't make him less of a man. He'd resorted to denying it to everyone including himself just to save him the constant internal battle.

 

That definitely didn't do anything to make him less scared. He peered at Cas, wondering what he would do if he took the chance, and it blew up in his face; like everything seemed to for him. Or, an even more frightening outcome- what he would do if it didn't blow up.

 

Shaking his head and reaching out, Dean gently pulled Cas out of the car, laying the coat over him and cradling the smaller frame to his chest. Castiel stirred and let out a little mumble, shifting and burying his face in Dean's neck. Dean shivered at the hot breath on his skin and smiled, hugging Cas closer. The angel, his angel, sighed

“Dean....”

“Mm?” He hummed as he carefully shut the car door with his hip. When Cas didn't respond, Dean realized he had been asleep and a pleasant warmth settled in his chest. He smiled and kissed his forehead softly, before walking towards the house, holding the man in his arms like a treasure.

 

Sam glanced up as his brother entered the house, and a small smile graced his lips. Dean looked around. He was standing in a small alcove that opened up into a cozy living room with an overstuffed couch on the left, and a kitchen lined in half walls with pillars on the right. Straight ahead was a big fish tank, set against the far wall and full of colorful aquatic creatures. Four doors told him there were likely three rooms and a bath down that hall. All in all, the flat was a comfortable space with just enough room to not be cramped, but not enough to be spacious. Dean smiled, noting the clash of Cas and his brother in the colors and decorations, and glanced Sam's way. His baby brother walked from the living area into the kitchen, and Dean shifted, shutting the door and carefully locking it- a difficult task to do without waking Cas- before walking forward and peeking after Sam.

 

He stood in a nice kitchen with stainless steel fixtures and a nice wooden island with matching counters and cabinets. He was holding a can in his hand and Dean squinted to see the Fancy Feast logo. He felt a groan coming.

“Don't tell me.” He whined. Sam gave him a knowing grin and pulled the lid off, dumping the goop into a small blue bowl on the floor and making a soft clucking noise with his tongue. In a flurry of jingling and gray fur, a cat bounded past Dean and into the kitchen, beginning to devour the food in a rush. Sam laughed and shook his head, standing and tossing the can in the garbage.

“Slow down, man, the food isn't going anywhere.” He said to the cat, who simply looked up with disdain and licked its lips.

“Entitled little pests...” Dean grumbled, causing a laugh from Sam which quickly turned into a yawn. He stretched, sighing.

“I'm going to head to bed. Bathroom is the first door on the right, Cas's room is across from it, guest room is next to that.” He mumbled, waving a little. “You can figure out where I am. Don't hurt Mr. Fluffy.”

Dean stared at him, his brows raising as he gave Sam a judgmental look.

“Fluffy.”

Sam rolled his eyes, and waved him away, heading towards his room.

“Just don't kill Castiel's cat, Dean.” He murmured, before disappearing and shutting his door. Dean arched a brow faintly. Leave it to Cas to name an animal Fluffy. He smirked a little and wandered into Cas's room, pushing the door open lightly. It was a medium sized room, with tall windows facing a big willow tree. These windows were covered with gauzy blue curtains that matched the blue quilt on the queen sized bed. There was a dresser in the corner, random trinkets littering it, and a desk covered in books of all kinds- occult, myth, psychology, there were even a few romance novels tossed in. The wall over the desk had a picture frame with a collage of pictures, him, Sam, Cas, Gabriel. Dean smiled a little and walked over to the bed, setting down Cas and covering him with the soft throw blanket on the foot of the bed. Castiel murmured, burrowing into his pillow. Dean looked at him, watching how the angel, his angel; hugged the trench coat like it was a teddy. Dean smiled at the sight, but it faded, to be replaced by a frown. He had a very strange urge and he didn't know why...

 

He decided to just go with it and carefully pulled the coat away from Cas, who whimpered at the loss. Dean shrugged off his own coat, lightly lifting his arm and placing the worn jean jacket near Cas's face.

 

The man stirred a little and smiled, nuzzling into the coat and sighing. The smile on his face was more content then it had been with the tan trench coat, which made Dean grin.

“Night Cas.” He whispered, before leaning down and kissing his hair.

 

He turned then, stretching and letting out a yawn. He slipped out of the room and went to see the state of this spare room that Sam had mentioned.

 

It was the same size as Castiel's, but it didn't look like a spare room, not at all. The bed had been made up with green bedding and a down comforter the color of cream. The closet door was open and Dean could see his clothes hanging there. He blinked and glanced around the room some more. It was mostly bare, but it was obvious that someone (he suspected the blue eyed angel most) had made it as comfortable as possible, while still leaving him room to decorate. Dean couldn't help but grin as he threw himself onto the bed in exhaustion and let sleep consume him.

 


	4. Marked By An Angel

“Hello Sammy.”

Sam jumped, his eyes snapping to the voice. Gabriel sat on his bed, socked feet stretched out comfortably on the red quilt. Sam frowned and carefully shut the door, worrying about Dean hearing the blond trickster. Gabriel was up and crossing the room towards him before he could manage anything in the form of words. The angel's fists curled into Sam's shirt and he looked up at him, eyes intense.

“Where have you been? I've been waiting forever. Castiel's cat is absolutely terrible company.” He whined. Sam couldn't help but smile faintly.

“It's a cat, Gabe. What did you want it to do, throw you a tea party?” He asked, teasing. Gabriel growled a little, giving a little grin.

“ Why not? It would have been the polite thing to--” He broke off and looked at Sam, eyes suspicious. He leaned forwards and gave Sam a long sniff. Sam swallowed hard, he knew where this was going. Golden eyes with hints of green looked up at him, sparkling in anger. “Why is Castiel's scent all over you, laden with your own arousal?”

 

Sam winced a little, looking away. Gabriel grabbed his chin and forced Sam to meet his eyes, his movements rough.

“Answer me, Winchester.” He snarled. Sam swallowed hard

“Cas...he...wanted me to comfort him. He kissed me and I...” Sam stopped and licked his lips. “I wanted to ease his pain with affection, but he managed to get me worked up and things just sort of...” He trailed off, looking at Gabe with shame in his eyes. The angel slowly rose a brow at him.

“You fucked my baby brother?” He supplied, his voice angry. Sam blinked and shook his head furiously.

“No no! We just kissed!” Sam reassured him, his voice raising in pitch. Gabriel's brow went higher.

“Kissed.” He repeated, obviously not believing him. Sam made a noise.

“Gabriel, I swear. It was just a kiss, some light touching. Nothing happened.” He whimpered, looking at the angel with dread in his stomach.

 

Gabriel's eyes were on him, hard and angry. He finally looked away, shaking his head. He'd stepped back and crossed his arms in a defensive pose. Sam licked his lips, anxious.

 

“Gabe?” He asked softly. The angel didn't move, so Sam reached out, his brows knit. Gabriel stepped back again. “Gabe, please.”

 

Gabriel looked at him, seething.

“Winchester.” He growled in warning. Sam winced at the tone, looking at the floor.

“Gabe, I'm sorry. I didn't...I wasn't...” He broke off, glancing up and searching for the words. Gabriel looked at him, his angry golden eyes expectant and filled with betrayal and hurt. Sam swallowed hard, he wasn't used to letting Gabriel show him such intimate emotions. “I didn't mean for it to get out of hand, Gabe. I'm sorry, I was just....trying to help Cas.”

 

Gabe pursed his lips, looking away again, his fingers tapping his side. His pose suggested he was thinking, his anger was fading a little. Sam knew what it was about. Gabriel glanced at Sam, his eyes worried. He quickly looked away, pretending he was still angry, that his concern wasn't there. Sam couldn't help it as a faint smile slipped onto his lips.

“What's wrong with Cas?” Gabriel asked finally. Sam had been expecting the question and he looked at him with soft eyes.

“Dean got out today.” He explained, Gabe's eyes glanced at him again, he seemed surprised.

“Chucklehead is out?”

 

Sam rolled his eyes and continued.

“Yes, Gabe. But he had a....friend.”

 

Gabriel's eyes widened slightly and he grinned a little.

“Never expected old Dean-o to go the way of prison showers.” He murmured gleefully, before pausing, his eyes darkening. “He didn't.....in front of Cas, did he?”

 

Sam sighed and rubbed his face.

“No. He definitely did.” He disagreed. Gabriel growled and clenched a fist.

“That stupid asshole.”

 

Sam sighed and stepped forward, enveloping the angry ball of angel in his arms. Gabriel stood stiffly, grumbling under his breath. Sam frowned and nuzzled his hair, kissing his temple.

“Gabe....I'm sorry...” He murmured again. Gabriel finally broke, slumping against him with a sigh.

“I know. I know you are.” He said into the fabric of Sam's flannel. Sam smiled, hugging the angel tighter to his chest.

“Good.”

 

Suddenly those topaz eyes were on him, bright with something else. Sam swallowed, blinking and clearly identifying the look. Before he could say anything, however, Gabriel had swung him around and shoved him onto the bed, standing over him in with a feral look on his face.

“But it doesn't matter, Winchester.” He started, Sam swallowed hard, looking up at him in confusion. “Because you are mine. And it seems, you need to be reminded.”

 

Sam shuddered slightly, his body tingling in anticipation as he looked up at Gabriel. The angel pulled off his shirt, slowly crawling onto the bed, hovering over Sam as he straddled his hips. Gabe knit his brows, looking down at him, hungry and possessive. After a moment, there was a rustle of feathers and Gabriel looked down as Sam's face melted into one of awe. Extended above Gabriel were two massive wings, speckled in a thousand different shades of brown. Gabriel had never brought out his wings before.

 

Gabriel looked down at him, eyes stern and full of lust.

“I intend to remind you exactly how much you belong to me, Sam Winchester.” He snarled, his eyes boring into Sam's. The taller man reached up, his eyes full of wonder and ran his fingers over the feathers of his lover's wings. Gabriel's eyes closed and he shivered in pleasure, letting out a little mewl. Sam swallowed, stilling his hand, and Gabriel's eyes snapped back open and he snarled softly, sitting up. Sam blinked in confusion as Gabriel grinned and snapped his fingers.

 

Sam let out a yelp as his wrists were suddenly snapped to the headboard and held there with an unseen force. Gabriel smirked and crawled up his torso, kissing Sam's neck hungrily, nibbling at the pulse point, sucking at it and savoring the small movement of a pulse he felt there. Sam let out a little whimper, fighting at whatever bond was holding his wrists. Gabe felt him struggling and bit down, causing Sam to yelp in pain. The archangel's eyes met his and Gabriel gave him a smug grin.

“Fight all you want, Sammy. My grace isn't going to break like some cheap silk scarf.” He purred, nuzzling at the hunter's Adam's apple. Sam let out a grumpy sound and relaxed, seeming to accept the fact that the angel had full control and that wasn't going to end soon.

 

Gabriel drew his tongue over the shell of his ear and bit down on his ear lobe, sucking at it softly. Sam groaned as Gabe's hands ran all over his chest. The groan seemed to ignite something in Gabriel, and the angel caught his lips in a searing kiss, suckling lightly at his bottom lip, biting softly. Sam moaned into the kiss and Gabriel took the ample opportunity to slip his tongue into the warm haven, running his tongue against Sam's in small circles. Sam pressed into him, challenging him for dominance and earning himself a growl in return. Gabriel's hands found his hair and his fingers curled into the locks, pulling downwards, making Sam hiss in pain. Gabriel growled again, continuing to explore his mouth passionately, hands cradling Sam's head gently. The kisses left his mouth, trailing along his jaw and as they reached his neck they became more fervent, turning into bites and enthusiastic suckling, leaving mark after mark on the hunter's soft skin.

 

When Gabriel's lips got blocked by fabric, he let out an annoyed grunt. He snarled and yanked the flannel open, sending black buttons flying all over the room. Sam made a grumpy noise.

“This is my favorite shirt.” He complained. Gabriel scowled as he shoved the shirt aside, only to be met with a white tee. He let out a frustrated growl.

“Why do you wear so many shirts?!” He didn't wait for an answer, he simply took the neck of the shirt and ripped it viciously. Sam blinked, his eyes dilating in arousal.

“Gabe...” Gabe's eyes snapped on to him and he blinked slightly, before grinning and leaning down, continuing his trail of marks across Sam's chest. Sam moaned, his head falling back as Gabriel's lips, hot and soft made their way across his skin. Sam let out a gasp of pain as he felt Gabe bite him, whimpering a little as his tongue drew over it lightly, apologizing for the red mark. Gabriel brought the skin into his mouth, sucking softly and nuzzling at his chest before he moved down, beginning to suck softly at Sam's nipple, nibbling gently as his fingers played with the other one in a teasing fashion. Sam let out a moan of pleasure, wiggling against his bonds. After remembering that he wasn't going to get free, he whined softly and lifted his hips, pressing into Gabriel insistently as the angel trailed kisses down his stomach. Gold flashed his way and Sam hissed as Gabriel bit him again, smirking against his skin. Then he lifted his lips from Sam's skin,

“Patience, Sammy. Good things come to those who...” Gabe trailed off, his lips falling into just above the waistband of Sam's pants, his hand pressing against the growing bulge. Sam let out a whimper of need and Gabe looked at him, grinning. “Wait.”

 

With that, Gabriel began to unzip Sam's fly, his fingers deft and needy. Seeing the human like this, his human, slowly unraveling beneath him was more erotic than all pornos in the world. He carefully pulled the jeans down around the hunter's lean hips, kicking them off the bed. Sam whimpered again

“Gabe, please....”

Gabriel looked up at him, smirking faintly.

“I already told you, Sammy.” He reprimanded, before slipping off the bed, watching as the hunter arched in frustration over the lost contact. Gabriel grinned and stood in front of the bed, looking him over, the prone hunter, wrists bound and clad only in his boxers, staring at him with a look of pure need- absolutely and undeniably turned on. Gabriel licked his lips, his stomach burning in want. This was his human, his man. He was going to make sure that after this night, everyone would know that.

 

Slowly, he began to undo his pants, his eyes on Sam the entire time, knowing and full of hunger as Sam's eyes darkened and he made a guttural noise. Gabriel let his jeans fall to the ground and his grin turned to a smirk as Sam whimpered, noticing he wasn't wearing underwear. With that, he began to crawl up the bed again, angling himself just right over Sam that when he rolled his hips, his length rubbed teasingly over Sam's. Sam shuddered, swallowing hard. Gabe smiled and kissed him, hungrily, repeating the action again and again until Sam was a mewling wreck underneath him, his breath erratic and hot against Gabriel's neck. The angel felt himself shudder, slowly losing more and more control over his vessel. He groaned softly and reached down, slipping his hand under the band of Sam's boxers, gripping the hunter lightly. Sam whimpered as the archangel's hand began to rub his shaft, slow and soft. Sam groaned a little as Gabriel grinned and tightened his grip, quickening the pace, leaning down and kissing Sam's neck, his lips gentle and hot.

“Sammy....” He mumbled softly, nipping his neck. Sam whined, pressing into his hand.

“Gabriel, please....” He begged, his voice cracking. Gabriel nodded faintly and shifted, pushing down Sam's boxers. He laid upon the hunter, allowing their skin to touch and their erections to rub together without the barrier of cloth. Sam gasped, arching slightly and whimpering as Gabriel shivered against him, reaching out and rustling in Sam's nightstand, groping for a little blue bottle. When he found it, he shifted again, kissing down Sam's neck, then his chest, and stopping right above his cock. Sam's eyes opened and he looked down at him, licking his lips. Gabriel grinned knowingly and leaned down, lightly running his tongue over the slit, before taking Sam into his mouth, savoring the saltiness of precum. Sam gasped again and his head fell back with a moan of pleasure. Gabriel hummed, hollowing his cheeks and sucking greedily, bobbing up and down; each time taking a little more of the hunter into his mouth. Carefully, without breaking that contact, Gabriel spread lube over his fingers and nudged his lover's legs open.

 

Sam was so far gone that he barely realized what his lover was doing, which Gabriel found more delicious than any sweet in the world. Carefully, he kept sucking, as he gently slipped a single finger into Sam. The hunter hissed at the sudden intrusion, but Gabriel carefully licked the slit that was beading once more with precum and Sam moaned, his head falling into the pillows . Gabriel grinned, taking him into his mouth once more and pulling his finger out, smiling at the moan of loss that Sam gave, before quickly replacing the one finger with two. The man whimpered a little, sounding pained, but Gabriel hooked his fingers, expertly brushing against the bundle of nerves buried deep within him. Sam gasped, arching and giving a whining moan

“Gabriel...fuck...”

 

Gabriel grinned and carefully eased in a third finger, spreading them and licking a hot stripe up the underside of Sam's cock. The Winchester moaned, pressing down on his fingers harder. Gabriel smirked a little.

“Alright Sam...” He murmured against the smooth under skin of his cock. Sam shivered a little and Gabriel looked up, meeting his eyes. “What do you want?”

 

Sam swallowed hard.

“Take me. Please Gabe, stop teasing me and just fuck me already.” He panted, his voice full of need. Gabriel grinned and nodded happily

“As you wish, Sammy...” He murmured, pulling his fingers away. Sam shivered slightly and watched as Gabriel spread lubricant over his cock then nudged his legs open even further and descended on him for a searing kiss. Keeping Sam distracted with his tongue as he slowly pressed into him. He shuddered, feeling the tight heat around his cock and purred softly. Sam's head fell back and he gave a whimper of pain. He wasn't used to bottoming.

 

Gabriel's face softened, and he looked him in the eyes.

“Sammy...?” He mumbled, his voice sweet. Sam looked up, his brows knit and his eyes full of trust. “Hold on one second, baby.”

 

With that, he thrust in, making sure to sheath himself fully. He expected Sam's yelp and swallowed it with a soft kiss, running his fingers through the dark locks. Sam breathed heavily into him, whimpering into his mouth Gabriel pulled away slightly and nuzzled his cheek.

“Shh Sammy, I know. I'm sorry. This way it's shorter. Just relax...” He murmured, kissing his neck softly, nibbling at his earlobe as the hand in Sam's hair drifted down, taking Sam's softening dick in his hand and beginning to fondle it lightly. Sam shivered at the touch and Gabe smiled, sucking softly on his earlobe. Slowly, Sam began to harden again and he looked at Gabriel desperately.

“Gabe please....I need you.” He whined, rolling his hips. Gabe shivered and nodded, pulling out and thrusting back in. Sam suddenly found his hands falling free, and he quickly made quick use in grabbing Gabe's shoulder, digging his nails into his skin. The angel gave a low mewl and continued thrusting, slow and shallow. Soon, Sam's fingers drifted from his shoulders, up into his wings, curling into his feathers. Gabriel groaned loudly, his fingers digging into Sam's hips as his thrusting sped up.

 

Suddenly, Sam arched off the bed, fingers pulling on the feathers inadvertently. Gabriel hissed and was about to snap at him until he noticed the expression on Sam's face. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open in a silent moan. His rage melted and he smirked slightly, before rolling his hips and pulling out, shifting his angle to hit that spot again and thrusting in again.

 

This time, Sam did moan. Loudly. He always enjoyed the fact that the hunter was a noisy lover. Gabriel let the sound wash over him and continued at the same angle, his hips working faster and harder, his thrusting deeper. Sam's hand's dropped to the bed and his fingers curled into the sheets as he gasped for air.

“Gabe!” He shouted, pleasure dripping from his tone. Gabriel growled, knowing that his fingers were going to leave nice bruises on Sam's hips and loving every second of it.

“Who do you belong to, Winchester.” He snarled, thrusting harder. Sam groaned and bucked against him, whining in pleasure. Gabe looked at him and his hips stilled, making Sam let out a whimper of need and disappointment.

“Why'd you stop...”

“Because I asked you a question.” Gabriel said simply, his eyes on Sam's. “Who do you belong to?”

 

Sam gulped, looking up at him with wide eyes.

 

“I belong to you, Gabriel. All of me.” He stuttered, not able to catch his breath. Gabriel growled in hungry approval.

“Fuck yes, you do.” He snarled before he pulled back and slammed himself into Sam. Sam's head fell back and he let out a cry of pleasure, his back arching a little.

“Oh god!”

 

Gabriel shuddered, feeling the heat pool in his stomach begin to spread out, through his limbs and to his fingers. He swallowed hard, his thrusts becoming wild and deep. He needed this. He needed to see Sam come, to writhe in pleasure beneath him.

 

Sam was a mess below him, whimpering nonsense and moaning his name like a prayer. Gabriel swallowed, feeling his fingers tingle and his toes begin to curl. He leaned down, capturing Sam's babbling lips in his, giving him a slow, long kiss; his hips never stop moving as he assaulted Sam's mouth. One of Sam's hands found its way to his hair and he gasped as the Winchester wrapped his fingers into it and pulled, arching into him with a shout. Gabriel felt Sam come between them and felt the muscles clenching around his cock in a delicious way. He grunted, squeezing his eyes shut and thrusting a few more times. His blood boiled as he came, thrusting to ride out the orgasm and milk it for both of them; his wings were spread wide above him, tense and shuddering.

 

Finally, he collapsed on Sam, sweaty and hot, gasping softly as he rolled off the other man, his wings drooping and disappearing with a rustle. The Winchester lay next to him, gasping softly for air with an arm draped over his face. They lay together, savoring the afterglow. Gabriel began to feel his eyes droop in exhaustion when Sam shook him lightly.

“Gabe.” He prodded. Gabe growled, opening his eyes.

“Sammy, I wanna sleep....” He whined petulantly, blinking up at him. Sam was on his side, holding his head up with one hand. His eyes were soft as he looked down at the archangel.

“Gabriel, you don't _need_ sleep.” He reminded, smiling faintly. Gabriel scoffed

“Sam, you know I sleep after sex. And that was good sex. I'm exhausted.” He complained, before shutting his eyes again. He heard Sam sigh and felt a hand shake him again. He sighed in utter irritation and opened his eyes, looking at him

“What??” He snapped, Sam licked his lips and looked at his right hip pointedly. There, on the tan, smooth skin, was a hand print. The skin was red and raised, it looked mildly painful, but nothing excruciating. Gabe felt his eyes widen and he swallowed hard.

“Sam, I....I didn't mean to...” He started, panicking. He knew he had made a mistake, such a mark was incredibly intimate and usually didn't exist without the permission of the marked person. Gabriel looked at Sam, desperate and worried. “I didn't mean to do mark you without your say so, fuck, I'm such an asshole.”

 

Gabriel covered his eyes with his hands, groaning; only to hear Sam laughing. He blinked and dropped his hands, looking over at the Winchester. Sam was smiling at him, his eyes shining in affection and amusement.

“Gabe...shut up.” He murmured, before reaching over and pulling the angel into his arms. Gabriel blinked and leaned into Sam's broad chest, frowning in confusion.

“You're....not angry?” He asked in a soft voice, too weak for his liking; this human had gotten under his skin. He felt Sam shake his head and reach out, taking his hand. Carefully, he placed Gabriel's hand over the mark on his hip and kissed his hair.

“I already told you that I'm yours, Gabe...”

 


	5. Apologies With A Side Of Toast

Dean wanted coffee. That was all he knew. Coffee, coffee, coffee.

He stumbled dumbly out of his room, rubbing his eyes with a yawn. The sweet smell of pancakes and sausage met his nose, along with bacon sizzling and coffee. He groaned and his mouth instantly began to water at the prospect of a real breakfast, not some powdered eggs and watery grits. He stumbled into the kitchen to see a most peculiar thing. Gabriel stood at the stove in a t-shirt and boxers, both of which Dean was 90% certain were Sam's due to the way they hung off of his frame, along with a frilly pink apron that was likely Castiel's. He was humming as he flipped pancakes with ease, the counters already full of waffles, eggs and hash browns. Mr. Fluffy sat on the kitchen table, which was set just out of view from the front door, licking his lips.

“What the fuck...”

 

The words spilled out of his mouth before he even really could comprehend what he was seeing, and the archangel glanced over his shoulder with that annoying little smirk.

“Good morning, Dean-o.” He greeted, tossing a finished pancake on the plate that was already towering with tons more. Dean blinked owlishly as the angel finished cooking the sausage and bacon and placed it on two more plates.

“Why the fuck are you here? And...why are you naked?” Dean cried, looking confused and rather uncomfortable about the situation. Gabriel glanced at him from piling food on his plate- mostly pancakes and waffles drenched in syrup, whipped cream and fruit. He arched a brow and gave a little smile as he picked up a mug and walked over to the table. He sat down and absently brushed the cat off.

“I'm here because I'm here, Winchester. And I assure you, I am not naked, but I could easily remedy that if you so wished.” Gabriel said, flashing a smirk as he sipped his coffee. He paused then, his eyes glinting in amusement. “Nice shiner, by the way.”

 

Gabriel didn't say a word, but it was obvious from the feeling in the air that he was glad about Dean's black eye. A door shut down the hall and Dean looked over his shoulder to see a sleepy looking Cas trudging their way. He must have awoke at some point in the night because he was now wearing just black boxers and...Dean's shirt. Dean swallowed hard and looked away, his stomach growing uncomfortably hot. Cas spotted him and offered a small, sleepy smile, then brushed by him into the kitchen.

“Sam, why did you coo-” He broke off, looking at Gabriel. Dean watched as tension slipped into Castiel's shoulders, and how Gabriel's eyes seemed a bit too cool as he regarded his baby brother. Dean frowned and watched as Castiel swallowed hard, his eyes going to the floor.

“Sam told you.” He stated, and Dean just stared at the scene in confusion. Gabriel took a bite of bacon and gave one, slow nod.

“You're lucky you're my favorite, Castiel. If you were anyone else, you'd already be dead.” Gabriel said, his voice tight. Dean growled, feeling oddly defensive of the smaller man.

“Don't talk to him like that, asshole.” He spat. Gabriel's eyes went to him and hardened. He shifted, raising his arm for that trademark finger snap and Castiel stepped forward.

“Gabe, don't.” He pleaded. Gabriel looked at him and frowned slightly, before letting his hand drop with a heavy sigh.

“It would have been much more pleasant without him around.” He growled softly as he continued to glare at Dean. Castiel frowned a little and sat down, looking at Gabriel intently.

“I am very, very sorry, Gabriel.” He whispered. The archangel looked from Dean's face, to Cas's and his eyes softened. “I really....I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't realize that you....you two were so close.”

Gabriel made a soft noise and leaned forward, his face serious.

“How many mornings have you woken up to find me at your table, Castiel?” He asked carefully, Dean's eyes widened as he finally caught on. He was about to speak but one look from Gabe made him swallow his tongue. Castiel was looking at the table like it was very interesting, as he formulated his thoughts.

“Gabe...you have always had lovers that were...mere playthings.” He murmured, tracing a grain on the wood with his finger. “I did not realize that Sam was someone that did not fit into that category.”

 

Gabriel looked at him for a long moment, then smiled softly and placed his hand over Castiel's.

“I forgive you, baby bro. Just don't touch my mate again and there will be no problem.” He said, smiling stronger.

“Who's a mate, what now?” Sam asked as he passed Dean. Dean jumped, suppressing a yelp. He was so fixated on the conversation and implications that he hadn't heard the giant approaching. Sam walked over, smiling at Gabriel and placed a kiss into his hair.

“Good morning.” He murmured sweetly. Gabriel purred softly and nuzzled into the kiss, causing Castiel to smile brightly. Sam reached over and ruffled his darker hair, before turning to get food.

“Congratulations, Gabriel. I am very happy for you.” Castiel said softly, which made Gabriel....blush?? That was it. Dean shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What the fuck is going on.” He groaned softly. Castiel looked over and blinked.

“Sam and Gabriel are mates. It's like...” Cas broke off, frowning faintly in thought. “Dating. For humans.”

“More like marriage.” Gabe murmured, Castiel's eyes widened and he looked at his brother.

“You have _bonded_?”

 

Sam glanced over from his place at the stove, nibbling on a piece of sausage.

“Is that what that mark thing is?” He asked in confusion, causing Castiel's jaw to drop.

“You....you...”

“Yes, Castiel.” Gabriel murmured, now sounding bored as he dug into his tooth melting breakfast. Sam walked over and sat next to him, earning a kiss on the cheek. Dean made a guttural noise

“OK, so my baby brother is not only BONING an archangel, he's _married_ to one??” He spat. Sam shrugged faintly looking at Gabriel curiously.

“Are we?”

 

Gabriel pursed his lips, looking worried and oddly self conscious.

“Kind of....is that OK?” He asked in a soft voice. Sam looked at him with an affectionate expression and reached out, wiping a bit of whipped cream off of Gabriel's chin.

“You should eat healthier, love.” He said softly, wiping his finger on his napkin. Gabe looked at him with bright eyes, seeming mildly confused. Sam rolled his eyes slightly, before he gave the archangel an intent 'I am talking to a child' gaze. “Yes, Gabriel. I'm OK with that.”

 

Dean's jaw dropped as the archangel grinned and grabbed his little brother, embracing him in a passionate kiss. Castiel smiled a little at the display and stood, walking over to get some food, and Dean decided to follow him numbly, pouring a mug of coffee with a whirlwind of emotion in his mind. Castiel glanced at him, then blinked rapidly.

“Dean?” He asked softly, Dean grunted and glanced his way. “What happened to your eye?”

 

Dean looked back to the coffee maker and sighed, setting the kettle back on the heating plate.

“Nathan got rather upset with me.” He replied, sipping his coffee with a sigh. Castiel blinked and turned to face him completely, looking worried.

“Why would he do that? You two seemed to be getting along just fine.”

 

Dean heard that tinge of jealousy and it made his heart jump. He just shrugged faintly and lowered his cup, glancing at Cas.

“He apparently doesn't appreciate being called someone else's name in bed.” He muttered, giving a shrug. Cas gave a tight lipped smile, but he couldn't hide the flare of joy in his eyes. Dean smiled a little and reached out, putting a hand on his arm. “I want to apologize, Cas.” He said softly, causing the smaller man's brows to furrow in confusion

“For what, Dean?” He mumbled, and Dean laughed softly.

“I didn't mean to be such an asshole yesterday, man. The way I acted with Nathan...it was uncalled for. He was uncalled for.” He explained, squeezing his arm lightly. Cas beamed at him and shook his head.

“Don't concern yourself with it. It's fine.”

 


	6. Duties Of A Soldier

A week in Dean's new home went fast. Castiel spent his time in the house, acting as well...the wife. He did the cooking, the cleaning, the gardening and even fixed Sam's clothing. Dean really didn't want to know how all the buttons on his red flannel shirt were ripped off at once.

 

Sam on the other hand, spent his time doing research. He'd occasionally head out on small, nearby jobs.

 

Dean would wander around, trying to re acclimate himself to life in the real real world. He often found himself walking around the small town they lived in, with no clear direction in mind, allowing his mind to just wander.

 

Things had settled comfortably between everyone, and he was glad. Sam and Gabriel were a mix of sickeningly sweet and over-zealously inappropriate. Castiel had relaxed around him, and resumed his life, which apparently consisted of all the little things he had learned to appreciate as an angel. Sam had informed him that Cas still hunted, and that he loved doing so- he'd just get distracted by the simpler things every once and a while.

 

———

 

Dean shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing around at the town. It wasn't big or particularly awe inspiring. It had the necessities and a few things that were purely recreational- a movie theater, a bowling alley, that sort of thing.

 

The wind picked up and Dean hugged himself, feeling naked. His jean coat was still lost in the abyss that was Castiel's room. Neither had mentioned it, and Dean didn't feel the need to. If it brought the other man comfort, it would stay there, even if Dean froze. Admittedly that would be his fault anyways, for not bringing his leather jacket. The roar of the Impala caused him to turn, watching as it passed and then pulled over, just in front of him. He tipped his head slightly and trotted over, peering in the window. It rolled down to reveal a smiling Cas. A smiling Cas wearing....his jean jacket. Dean swallowed, but forced himself to smile back, ignoring what that sight did to him.

“Hey man, what's up?” He choked out, squinting into the car. Castiel shrugged a little.

“I have to do some shopping while Sam's at the library checking out a possible job. I thought you might want to join me.” He explained. Dean blinked and smiled, nodding.

“Yeah, sure.” He said, jumping at the opportunity to be near Castiel. He climbed into the car, watching as Cas glanced over his shoulder and smoothly pulled out. Dean barely registered exactly how long it was that he sat there, staring at Castiel drive. Noting the way his arms flexed when he shifted, and his eyes stared at the road in an adorable frown of concentration. Just the mere thought of Castiel driving his car was making him nuts. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat

“Cas, pull over.” He whimpered, causing blue eyes to flash onto him in concern.

“What's wrong, Dean? Are you OK?”

“Goddamn it, Cas, I said pull over!” He cried. Castiel's eyes widened and he promptly did so as safely as possible. Dean was quickly snapping, he chewed on his lip as Cas parked the car and turned to him.

“There. I pulled over. Now what the hell is wrong, Dean?” He snapped, sounding worried. Dean couldn't form words, so he just groaned and with one hand, grabbed that jean jacket and pulled Castiel towards him, kissing him hungrily. Castiel froze for a moment, then let out a soft moan and fell into him, off balancing Dean and causing them both to fall backward on the front seat. Dean grunted in approval at the new weight and the new contact, before shifting and wrapping his arms around Castiel's slim waist, his lips feverish and desperate. Castiel gave a soft whine, his fingers curling into Dean's shirt tightly. Dean was fairly surprised at just how good Castiel was at kissing, and he quickly found himself falling into the abyss as their tongues switched between battling for dominance and teasing each other horribly. Cas groaned a little in pleasure and rocked his hips against Dean's, making the other man gasp, effectively breaking the kiss. Dean couldn't describe the range of emotions that overtook him when he felt that Castiel was hardening against his thigh. He licked his lips and took a deep breath, staring up at the blue eyes above him. Castiel's pupils were dilated with arousal and shining brightly in happiness.

“Dean...what....” He breathed, sounding dazed, Dean blushed faintly and cleared his throat.

“You....my car....my coat...” He groaned and let his head fall back. “I have never seen anything so erotic...”

Castiel shivered, looking at him with a blush spreading across his cheeks. He swallowed a little and looked down at Dean, his eyes confused.

“What now, though?” He murmured, looking slightly concerned. Dean looked up at him and his eyes softened. He reached up, lightly cupping Castiel's cheek and smiling softly.

“I have no idea....” He admitted, before leaning up and carefully drawing Castiel into a slow kiss, stroking his cheek lightly. After a few moments, he pulled back and looked up at him, eyes earnest and soft. “I...will admit that this is weird. Really weird for me...and I...I'm...” He broke off and cleared his throat, looking away. Castiel looked down at him and frowned faintly, carefully climbing off of his chest. His eyes were worried as Dean sat up, avoiding his gaze. Castiel scooted towards him, making a noise of concern and lightly taking Dean's chin, forcing the other man to meet his eyes.

“Dean, please...if something is bothering you, I want to help.” He assured softly. Dean knit his brows as he gently pulled away his chin and looked at his lap.

“Can we please not have this talk in the Impala?” He murmured. Sure, it was an odd request, but Dean knew his father would be rolling over in his grave if there was any 'vagina talk' in his car. Castiel tipped his head, finding the request confusing, but nodded, willing to comply.

“Of course. We'll go back to the house.” With that, he shifted the car and pulled out of the spot, doing a u turn and heading back to the tidy little duplex. It didn't take long, given the size of the town, but the silence that settled made it uncomfortably long for both men. Castiel gripped the steering wheel tightly as he pulled into the driveway. He looked at Dean for a moment, then stepped out, wandering into the house, clearly giving Dean his time.

 

The Winchester leaned back, groaning and rubbing his eyes, not looking forward to the conversation he knew he was about to have. He didn't want to have it, not at all, but he knew that when Castiel sensed there was something there, he would get it out of him. Castiel had always been good at getting Dean to say the things he didn't want to. Slowly, he climbed out of the car and shut the door, walking up to the house and taking his time. When he reached the small area between kitchen and living room, he looked around in confusion as Castiel was nowhere to be found.

“He's in his room.” Came a sudden voice. Dean looked back into the kitchen to see Gabriel sitting on the counter, eating ice cream out of the carton when he definitely hadn't been there before. Dean blinked, raising his brows at the archangel. Gabriel blinked at him. “What?” He said, around a mouthful of melting chocolate ice cream, causing a line of chocolate to dribble down his chin. Dean shook his head, amused.

_Pride of Heaven, everybody._

He snickered softly as he walked over to Castiel's door and knocked lightly. He heard a muffled voice bidding his entry and he slipped in to see Castiel laying on his bed, looking at his ceiling in thought. However, as the Winchester entered, he glanced over and smiled, patting the bed next to him. Dean blinked and trotted over obediently, sitting down next to him. They were silent for a while, Castiel just gazing up at the roof, not forcing Dean to say or do anything. Finally, he groaned, kicking off his boots and shifting, laying back next to the former angel and shutting his eyes.

“I'm scared, Cas...” He murmured finally, and he felt Castiel's eyes fall upon him as a soft hand fell onto his thigh. Dean jumped slightly and opened his eyes, looking at Castiel in confusion. The angel just gazed back at him, accepting and patient. Dean licked his lips and looked away. “No man, scared doesn't describe it. I'm fucking terrified.” He stuttered, feeling his throat close up slowly. The hand on his leg squeezed lightly.

“What are you afraid of, Dean...” Castiel probed lightly, his voice soft and gentle. Dean shut his eyes tightly, swallowing hard.

“Oh god, Cas, I'm scared of so fucking much. I'm...I'm scared of taking this too fast, or doing the wrong thing and losing you. I'm scared that if I don't take a chance I'll regret it forever. I'm scared that any one of the things that is out there right now that wants my blood, will take it out on you. Or Sam. I don't want to lose either of you, but that's what happens to me, Cas. The...the people I love....the people I care for and let in, they die.” He was well aware that he was shaking now, and that tears were falling down his cheeks. His body wracked with a soft sob and he felt Castiel move closer. “I don't want anyone to die for me. I don't deserve it. The only thing I deserve is to die myself. I deserve punishment, that's why I went to the prison, why I wouldn't let you help, why I left you.” Dean shuddered and distantly noticed Castiel bringing him into his arms and cradling his head against his chest, rocking him gently. But it didn't matter. Dean wasn't made for these types of emotions. He bottled them all up, behind a dam, safe and sound. That dam was cracked now, and there was no way of stopping the shit pouring from his mouth. “Not only because I deserve to be punished for everything I have done and everyone I have hurt, but because I know that you and Sammy are safer if you're not near me. Castiel, you should have never brought my back from hell.”

 

As soon as those words fell from his lips, Castiel grabbed his arms and shoved him back, his blue eyes sparkling in anger.

“Dean Winchester, I don't _ever_ want to hear you say something like that EVER again.” He snarled, staring at Dean with a deep, angry frown on his face. Dean blinked slightly, still feeling the tears brimming in his eyes as he opened his eyes.

“But--”

“ _No_.” Castiel interrupted, his voice was hard and contained a very clear warning. Dean stopped, not used to being the one on the receiving end of that tone. He swallowed, and Castiel took it as a cue to continue. “Dean, when I brought you from Hell, when I raised you from your sorrow and your pain, it was my duty. I raised you from perdition and pieced your broken soul back together. I have seen everything about you, every flaw, every perfection, everything that makes you so beautifully human. You are a good person with a beautiful soul, and I won't have you saying any different. I do not regret anything about meeting you, about saving you, about anything of that sort. My duty became my reason to _live_ and if there is ANYTHING I regret in regards to you, it is the fact that I will _never_ be able to get you to see what I see when I look at you.” Castiel held Dean's face lightly in his hands. The watery green eyes were staring at him, gaping and vulnerable.

“What do you see, Cas...” He whimpered, his brows knit in an expression of pain. Castiel's eyes softened and he leaned in, setting his forehead against Dean's.

“I see a man...who was trained to be a soldier, but never truly raised by anyone but himself. A man that became a father at the tender age of four, because his own father, his role model, was too broken to function beyond revenge. I see someone who has been hurt, over and over by the ones that he loves because he is so _loyal_ he would rather be hurt than have them hurt. I see the jealousy, the anger you feel, how you envy Sam because he could have been normal, because he was your father's pride and joy and you feel like you were nothing. Sam could do no wrong and even if you followed every order, you still weren't good enough for him. I know you wish you could have a normal life, settle down, and be happy, but you're _afraid_. You're afraid you'll get all that and something will take it away, that something will take it away because you don't deserve it.” Cas paused, swallowing hard. “Dean, I see a beautiful, brilliant man, who is loyal, strong, determined, and cares deeply for those around him. You deserve happiness just like the ones you save so selflessly, but you sacrifice it to continuing saving them. You truly are a soldier Dean, and it is the most breathtaking thing about you.”

 

Dean shut his eyes, holding in another sob. His heart swelled at Castiel's words, but his mind wouldn't, couldn't accept them. They were not true, he didn't deserve all this, all these kind words and wishes. He shook his head lightly.

“I am not a soldier. Soldiers do not bear their emotions and cry like little bitches.” He grunted, trying to pull away his face. Castiel held him tightly, making him open his eyes again; he was stunned to find those clear pools of blue boring into him with a staggering intensity.

“Dean. You are allowed to feel. You are allowed to express. I know you are not comfortable doing so--”

“Because I have balls! Emotions are for women.” He snarled, Castiel frowned at him

“Are you saying that I am a woman, Dean? Because I have emotions. I have feelings.” He snapped at the hunter. Dean winced slightly, then growled. Castiel didn't have the right to keep pushing him like this, to keep smothering him in vagina talk. Dean knew what the truth was, and he didn't need to listen to this shit.

“Maybe it would be easier if you were a woman.” Dean tugged his face away and Castiel blinked, sitting back and looking at him blankly, his head tipped to the side. Dean saw the hurt seep into his eyes and his stomach twisted horribly, but he looked away, setting his shoulders and sniffing.

“So that is partially it, as well.” Castiel said suddenly. Dean blinked and looked at him.

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“You are still concerned about your manhood.” Castiel explained, looking at him seriously. Dean blinked a little, then scowled

“Son of a _bitch_.” Dean spat, before turning to look at Castiel fully, his eyes angry. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with my manhood, Castiel.” He growled dangerously. Castiel arched a brow and smiled tightly.

“I agree with you Dean. There is nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong with caring for someone, feeling emotions, or being attracted to someone who may or may not be the same gender.” That hurt was still there, but Dean watched as Castiel pushed through how he felt, to comfort Dean. Dean licked his lips and looked away, feeling slightly guilty. “You are not any less of a man for any of these feelings or thoughts you have. And if you think you are, then you're an idiot.”

 

Dean's eyes snapped on to Castiel in surprise, his brows knitting.

“Huh?”

“I called you an idiot, Dean.” Castiel repeated, smiling placidly. Dean felt a faint surge of anger.

“I heard you. Why the fuck are you insulting me, though.” He growled, narrowing his eyes. Castiel continued to smile, a hint of condescension slipping into it. Dean hated that look, that stupid fucking look that Cas used to do all the time when he had wings.

“I'm calling you an idiot because you think you are less of a man for things going on in your head and in your heart. Because you're letting the fear of losing your manhood effect the way you act in regards to said feelings. I acknowledge you have some rational fears that I certainly share, but these stupid fears of not being the perfect soldier, not being manly enough, they are pure and utter _bullshit_.” He snapped. The language, the tone, all of it was like a slap across the face. Dean stared at him, his jaw falling slightly. Castiel looked at him calmly and leaned forward, shutting his mouth and taking his chin, pulling him closer. “Because the _man_ that I fell in love with is an amazing one. He cares so, so much for everyone around him, and whether or not he believes the positive things about himself, the truth is that you, Dean Winchester, are a fighter. An amazing man that I love and I will not tolerate you putting yourself down over and over, treating yourself like shit because you think your emotions make you less of a person. That loving me makes you less of a man.”

 

Dean stared at him, eyes wide as he gulped at the air, his heart hammering in his chest. Castiel looked at him sadly, gently running his hand from Dean's chin to his cheek, cupping it lightly. Dean licked his lips and felt his stomach flip like it was throwing a rave. He stared at Castiel, his eyes open, while the blue poured into him. Castiel leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips to Dean's, his fingers curling into his golden brown hair. Dean let out a whimper of need and leaned into the affection, soaking it up desperately. His lips moved against Castiel's, begging, pleading for more, but Castiel kept the kiss chaste, and soon he was pulling away, his eyes soft and loving.

“Not yet.” He murmured, lightly running his hand through Dean's hair. Dean frowned and shut his eyes, leaning into the touch.

“Why....”

“Because.” Castiel replied, then at the accusing stare, he smiled faintly and nuzzled his cheek. “First of all, you are upset, and I would rather not have that fact be the reason for whatever you were about to try. Second, you need to rest. I know you're tired, I know what that type of breakdown does, Dean. I've had plenty of them. And third, I just like watching you squirm.”

 

Dean's eyes snapped onto his and Castiel grinned mischievously, causing Dean's stomach to twist pleasantly. He laughed and tackled the former angel lightly, kissing him again, but obeying his wish and keeping it sweet. Soon he pulled away and set his head lightly on Cas's shoulder. He was right, Dean was exhausted. He'd been exhausted, emotionally, for so long and now that it had all poured out, he just...needed to rest. He shut his eyes, wrapping an arm around Castiel's waist as he buried his nose in the crook of his neck. After a moment of breathing in his soft, sweet scent, he squeezed him closer.

“I'm sorry that you fell because of me, Cas...” He murmured, his voice sad. Castiel gave a sigh.

“That is one of those things that you shouldn't blame on yourself, Dean...” He reprimanded lightly, glancing down at the hunter. “If there was anything I ever considered worth the pain of falling, it would be loving you.”

 

Dean shifted, looking up at Castiel with bright eyes. He swallowed, licking his lips and shaking his head, wiping one of his eyes.

“Castiel....that's....that is the sweetest fucking thing anyone has ever said to me, man.” He muttered, causing Castiel to raise a brow slightly and lean forward, kissing his forehead lightly.

“It's the truth, Dean. Now please....let's sleep.” He pressed softly, Dean nodded, returning his face comfortably to the pillow below him. Castiel shifted so their faces were level and rolled to face him, his eyes gazing at him with pure adoration. Dean felt his face heat up, so he groaned and pulled Castiel closer by his waist, burying his head in the smaller man's chest. Castiel chuckled lightly and began to smooth back his hair.

“Why Winchester, were you blushing?” He teased, only to be growled at, which made him grin into Dean's hair, nuzzling the silky locks gently. They were both silent for a moment, before Dean shifted, glancing up.

“Don't leave.” He pleaded softly. Castiel glanced down at him and placed another kiss to his hair.

“I won't if you won't.” He murmured, before drawing Dean back into his chest and shutting his eyes. The hunter shifted, shutting his own emerald eyes, feeling the strong arms lock around him. He'd been held by quite a few lovers in his time, but he had never, ever, felt so safe in someone's arms before. Dean rubbed a slow circle into Castiel's back, savoring the feeling. This was not what he was expecting from today, at all, but he was...rather pleased with the outcome. He knew he hadn't exactly confessed his actual feelings to Castiel, but it didn't seem to matter. Castiel seemed to know, and was content with the fact that Dean would say it once he was ready. He smiled faintly, nuzzling Cas's shirt, breathing his scent in again. He could get used to this, and he sorely hoped he would have to. He felt sleep beginning to claim him, and he could tell Cas was drifting off himself. He snuggled closer, smiling softly.

_I love you so much, Cas..._

 


	7. Losing Sight

The next thing he knew, Dean was being shook awake. He groaned softly and kicked the offender.

Sam caught his foot with a laugh, tossing it away.

“Come on man, we've got a job.” He explained, tugging Dean towards the edge of the bed. Dean yelped slightly

“OK, OK! Jesus!” He grumbled, kicking Sam away. His little brother laughed and stepped back, smirking while his eyes danced in amusement. Dean sat up, groaning softly and stretching, before blinking at Sam's look of joy. “What the hell are you staring at, man?”

“You.” He said simply, beaming at Dean. The older Winchester groaned and rubbed his eyes, looking around and slowly realizing that he was still in Castiel's room, in Castiel's bed. He sighed and glanced at Sam who was looking rather cheeky.

“Oh shut up.”

 

Sam laughed and held up his hands, backing away.

“Sam, I told you to leave him be.” A voice chastised from the hall. Seconds later, Castiel wandered into his room, fresh and fully dressed, holding two mugs of coffee. Sam grinned a little.

“Yeah, I just couldn't.” He murmured, before slinking by Castiel, who gave him a disapproving look as he scampered away. Then the former angel looked at Dean and smiled softly, walking over and holding out a mug.

“I'm sorry, Dean, I wanted him to leave you a bit longer.” He apologized softly, making Dean laugh.

“It's okay, man.” He murmured, before taking a nice long sip of his coffee and sighing. Castiel was standing a few feet away, looking awkward. Dean understood why, he had expected to feel awkward.

 

But he didn't.

 

Waking up like this...near Cas, in his bed, felt like the most natural thing in the world.

 

Carefully, Dean set his mug on the bedside table and reached out, drawing the other man closer. He felt Castiel relax at his touch, the awkwardness on his face slipping away, and Dean knew instantly it had only been there because Castiel didn't know what to expect from him.

 

He frowned faintly, wrapping his arm around Cas's waist and burrowing his face into his stomach, breathing in deeply. He stayed like that for a while, savoring the feel and smell of the angel in his arms. He felt Castiel begin to play with his hair and smiled into his shirt, squeezing him tightly.

“Come on, you two! We need to get going!” Sam shouted from the other room. Castiel sighed and pulled away slightly, looking down at Dean and smiling a little.  
“We have a long drive. He's right.” He agreed, before leaning down and kissing him softly.

 

It was far too short of a kiss, in Dean's opinion, but it ended with a brilliant smile on Castiel's face and that made up for it. He felt himself nod and stand.

“Alright.”

 

———

 

Dean wasn't really sure how everything had fallen apart so damn fast. The trip to the tiny town in Washington hadn't taken too long, and the ride was pleasant. He'd gladly taken over the driving of baby, and Castiel sat next to him, smiling in amusement as he sang along horribly to his music. Sam sat in the back seat, stretched out comfortably while he flipped through a book and made audible noises of amusement and mockery. Dean couldn't be bothered to care. It was the first time he'd felt truly content in so long. He was back where he belonged, back with his family. Hunting things and saving people.

 

They'd made it there in record time and rented two small rooms in the town just before the one they were investigating. The rooms were nothing special, but Dean still walked right in and flopped onto one of the beds like it was the Taj Mahal. Castiel regarded the room a little more warily, wandering in and looking at the bedspreads, his nose wrinkling faintly. Dean propped himself up on his arms and watched as Cas stripped the bed down to the sheets, rolling the coverlet into a ball and placing it in the corner. The hunter rose a brow.

“What are you doing?” He murmured, looking at Cas in blatant confusion. Castiel turned to him and frowned.

“Do you know how many bodily fluids are on the average hotel bedspread, Dean?” He asked seriously, looking at him with a blank condescension. Dean paused, then rose a brow and laughed, laying back down.

“Whatever, man.”

 

The night progressed normally, the trio hanging out, going to get dinner in a diner and wandering back to their rooms to sleep. Castiel wandered into the bathroom to brush his teeth and was surprised when he walked back out to find Dean curled up in the stripped bed, wearing only boxers.

 

The former angel blinked in confusion, wandering forward. The hunter was curled into a ball, hugging one of the pillows with his eyes shut. He wasn't asleep though, his breathing was too shallow.

 

Cas tipped his head slightly and walked over, sitting on the other side of the bed carefully. Dean felt the mattress shift and stirred, rolling over as Cas laid down. The hunter smiled at the smaller man, noting his confusion.

“You don't mind, do you? I...slept better this way.” Dean murmured softly. There was a flash of vulnerability in his eyes and Cas smiled faintly, shifting and immediately drawing the hunter into his arms.

“Of course I don't mind, Dean...” He murmured into the hunter's sandy hair. Dean grunted softly, shutting his eyes and nuzzling Castiel's chest. Cas shut his eyes and carefully wrapped an arm around the hunter's waist, hugging him close. He was silent for a long moment, before opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling. He chewed his lip a little, trying to work up the courage. “...Dean?”

 

His voice was small and quiet, and he wasn't sure if Dean heard him- hell, he wasn't sure if Dean was even still awake. Such concerns, however, melted when Dean stirred, blinking up at him. His green eyes were hazy with sleep, but still aware.

“Mmm?” He hummed, setting his chin on Castiel's chest, his eyelids drooping. Castiel licked his lips, breathing out through his nose, a short little huff.

“Dean, what....what are we doing? What is this?” He questioned, his voice fearful. Dean's eyes sharpened slightly and Castiel shut his eyes to avoid his gaze. His stomach was clenching uncomfortably. He could be human for thousands of years and he would never get used to the little unpleasantries that went along with it.

 

Silence fell between the two men and Castiel's stomach began to flip flop. This was bad. He should have kept his mouth shut. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize, but the words never got to leave his lips. Dean leaned up, drawing Castiel into a soft kiss, his lips warm and gentle.

 

Castiel relaxed and he kissed back sweetly, savoring the taste and feel that was Dean Winchester.

 

The kiss was over far sooner than Castiel would have liked, he kept his eyes shut, lingering on the feel of the other man's lips. Dean chuckled softly and Cas felt the hunter place his head back on his chest.

“I don't know the answer to that question, Cas.” He murmured, causing Castiel to open his eyes and look down at him. Dean's eyes were shut and he was ready for sleep again. “But it doesn't really matter, man...we're us. This is how we feel. For right now, I'm happy with that.”

 

Castiel looked at him for a long, hard moment, then smiled, rubbing Dean's back and letting his head fall onto the pillow.

“Good night, Dean...”

“'Night Cas.”

 

———

 

That was truly the last thing that Dean could clearly recall. He knew that they had gotten up in the morning and made their way into the next town over.

 

It had been deserted, all contact had been cut off and everyone who went in to investigate had seemingly forgotten how to use radio communication or cell phones.

 

They had known from the start that something was very wrong in that town- the very feel of it was polluted and dark. Castiel had steeled himself, setting his jaw, but Dean remembered the fear in his eyes as he looked through the ruined buildings and over turned, smoking cars.

 

Corpses of town people littered the street, blood staining the asphalt as shattered glass and rubble crunched under their feet.

 

It wasn't long before the cause of the destruction was apparent. The town was positively teeming with demons. The group found this out the hard way, when a pack of at least fifteen demons descended on them.

 

Somehow they managed to get away- but not without getting split up in the process.

 

“Sam!” Dean whispered, peering through the dark. He held his shotgun close to his chest, his body thrumming with adrenaline. Castiel and Sam had been split off by a particularly nasty wave of the bastards, and Dean had bolted in the opposite direction. That had been at least an hour ago. Dean licked his lips, trying not to let the panic get to him. “Cas!”

 

He was crouched low, his eyes scanning the area as he carefully walked forward, his body ready to react if needed. He was striding by a building when the door creaked open. Dean swung around, only to see his little brother standing there, holding his hands up. Dean frowned a little, then without hesitating, pulled out his flask and splashed holy water into his face. Sam blinked, staring at him in irritation, before grabbing his arm and yanking him into the building, shutting and chaining the door behind them as he wiped his face. One look around the building told him two things.

 

One: they were in possibly the best building in town, the hardware store. Two: Castiel wasn't there.

 

Dean swallowed hard and looked at his brother, who met his gaze knowingly.

“We got separated. Just breathe. Cas will be fine.” He murmured, pressing a bottle of water into Dean's hand. Dean looked down at the water, gripping it until the plastic creaked.

 

Castiel should not be out there alone. No one should, especially not his angel.

 

Sam took his arm again and guided him over to a small haven that he'd set up with bags of fertilizer and a few blankets and shirts from his duffel, sitting the elder Winchester down carefully.

“Seriously. Dean, Cas will be fine.” He murmured. Dean swallowed hard and looked at the floor.

“What about his phone? We should call him.” He murmured hopelessly. Sam glanced at him sadly, his eyes clearly stating he'd tried.

“No service at all. Just calm down and rest a bit.”

 

Dean stared at him, his eyes wide. Sam saw the panic blooming there and he frowned, resting a hand on Dean's shoulder. He gave his best comforting smile which was, given the situation, not very reassuring. His own stomach twisted and turned unpleasantly at the thought. He sat down, frowning a little and leaning against his brother.

“It'll be OK.”

 

Dean grunted softly and gazed at nothing in particular, his eyes distant. Sam sighed and glanced at his watch. Noon. He licked his lips and looked back up to find Dean's eyes staring at him imploringly. Sam blinked slightly, confused

“What?” He asked, Dean swallowed hard and looked faintly ill as he opened his mouth.

“What about Gabriel?”

 

Sam felt his stomach drop a little more. He'd sort have been hoping that Dean wouldn't think of that. He looked away from those imploring green eyes and took a slow breath.

“That's...cut off too. I don't know what the hell it is about this town, but I can't feel Gabriel anymore.” He murmured, his face unhappy. Since they'd bonded, Sam had gotten used to that faint tug there, letting him know how his mate was faring. He really didn't like not being able to feel the archangel. Dean looked at him for a long moment, then grimaced slightly and looked away.

“Don't wanna know.” He stated firmly, before groaning and dropping his head into his hands. “Fuck. What do we do now?”

 

Sam looked at him thoughtfully, his lips set. He considered the question for a moment, then he sighed and looked away.

“Rest for now. Recuperate. And then we'll go find Cas and gank these fucking demons.” Sam stated finally, his voice sure. Dean lifted his head and blinked, before smiling faintly.

“Right.”

 

———

 

An hour of rest saw the brothers walking through the town, shoulder to shoulder, with matching looks of vigilance as they scoped out the smoking buildings. They hadn't seen a single soul since they entered the town, and Sam's stomach was starting to twist uncomfortably with the thought that this town had been taken over completely. He broke out of this to glance at Dean, trying to gauge his brother's reactions, only to be met with a stoic mask. Sam frowned, looking away. Though he didn't get much from Dean's expression, he'd seen the dark hopelessness that had settled in his eyes like a stone. Sam didn't like that at all.

 

The silence hung thick in the air for a while, before the sound of crunching glass drew the attention of both Winchesters. The brothers swung around, guns ready, to be met with the sight of a terrified looking woman. Her red hair pooled around her shoulders, matted and streaked with dirt, her pale face marked with blood. She swallowed, looking at them for a long moment and holding up her hands.

“I...I'm not one of them.” She whimpered, looking terrified. Sam glanced at Dean, who started to lower his gun a little. He gave the woman a once over and nodded, lowering the gun completely, before walking over and offering her his silver flask. Sam watched intently as the women blinked and greedily accepted the flask, drinking the holy water inside like it was the nectar of the gods. When she was finished, she sheepishly handed the flask back and wiped her mouth.

“Sorry. It's been a while since I've had a chance at clean water.” She muttered softly, her brown eyes looking up at Dean. He gave her a grim smile and stowed the flask in his pocket

“Don't worry about it. What's your name?” Dean questioned softly. Sam watched the exchange, lowering his gun. The woman swallowed, looking nervous.

“I'm Trisha.”

 

Dean gave a short nod.

“Alright. Trisha. I'm Dean and this is Sam. Have you come across any other...normal people?” He asked. Sam noted that this question came a lot sooner than it normally did and frowned.

 

Trisha squinted a little, her thin fingers playing with the hem of her sweater.

“Yeah...about...two hours ago. I saw a guy being chased by a pack of....whatever they are.” She paused, licking her lips. “Actually, he...kinda looked like you two. Prepared.”

 

Dean's breathing hitched and he pounced on this tip.

“What did he look like?”

 

Trisha shifted uncomfortably, looking at the ground.

“I was sort of far away, but he was tall. Dark hair. Wearing a blue shirt and a jean jacket.”

 

Sam swallowed hard. Castiel was wearing his favorite shirt and Dean's coat today. He looked at his older brother and watched as his mask crumbled. Dean leaned down.

“Which way did he go? Was he hurt? How many were following him? What--”

“Dean.” Dean straightened up, breathing hard and looked at Sam, his eyes pleading, panicking. Sam gave him a gentle look. “Give the girl some space...she's probably really frightened.”

“But Cas-”  
“Cas will be OK.” Sam assured, stepping forward. Trisha watched the exchange with rapt attention, her brows furrowing.

“I'm sorry your boyfriend is missing.” She murmured softly. Dean's eyes snapped onto her as a blush began to crawl up his neck.

“He's not...I'm not...”

“Dean let it go.” Sam muttered, a grin slipping on to his face. Dean let out a groan and turned, walking away. Trisha watched him go, blinking a little. Sam gave her a smile. “He's sensitive about it. Which way did Cas go?”

 

Trisha blinked and pointed, making Sam nod.

“Dean! West!” He called, causing his brother to veer in the direction of Trisha's pointing. Sam turned to the woman. “Do you know how to fire a gun?”

 

She stared at him, eyes wide and shook her head. He frowned a little and shifted, bringing a pistol out of his waistband.

“Here. Go back to the Hardware store a block up. Chain the door and stay there. When it's safe, we'll come get you OK?” He asked, holding out the pistol. She bit her lip, reaching out with a trembling hand to take the gun. Sam covered her tiny hand with one of his own, squeezing lightly and giving her a smile. “It's semi automatic. Just point and shoot. Aim for the head as best you can, alright? Just run and don't stop.” His voice was soft and reassuring despite the panic he felt. He gave her a matching smile and was rewarded with the sight of her relaxing, bucking up slightly. She nodded and smiled at him.

“Thank you. Be careful.”

 

And with that, she turned and booked it back the way the brothers had come. Sam watched her go, sighing, before turning and jogging to catch up to Dean. His brother's shoulders were tense, and his face had fallen into that mask again.

“Dean, calm down.” Sam tried, even though he knew it was futile. Green eyes flashed on to him, anger surfacing.

“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down, Sam? Cas is out there alone, and this town is swarming with fucking demons!” He spat, jerking his head away so he didn't have to look at Sam. Sam sighed and rubbed his face. He knew saying anything would just provoke his brother further, as nothing would appease his concern. So he dropped it, allowing that thick silence to fall between them again. It was awkward and unpleasant, but Sam wasn't fond of the alternative, either. He frowned and stared ahead, his hands wrapped around the cool metal of his gun, grounding him to this horrible reality.

 

He wasn't sure how long they walked like that, the deafening silence their only companion, but the sound of shouting broke Sam out of his reverie. His fingers tightened around the gun and looked around wildly for the source. A few yards to their right, a small pack of people in various states of disarray were approaching, each of them armed. Sam glanced at his brother, watching as he narrowed his eyes at the newcomers. Dean made a point of lowering his gun just enough to not be threatening, but not too much so he couldn't react if need be. Sam made a point of following his lead.

 

The people in the group felt no apparent need to do the same.

 

The apparent leader strode over, a tall man apparently in his forties. He had a prim little mustache, and he held himself with the air of someone who was once military. His gun, a large gauge rifle, was swung easily onto his shoulder as he approached, giving the boys an easy, albeit slightly suspicious, smile.

 

“Well, well. Another pair of stragglers.” He greeted, his voice husky and rough. Sam glanced behind him and noticed that the entire group was still aiming at them.

 

“You look a bit more prepared then the last person we ran in to.” Dean greeted sociably, the man turned his beady brown eyes onto the elder Winchester and smiled.

“Ah, you've found another survivor then. Did you get a name?” He questioned, Sam licked his lips.

“She said it was Trisha. I gave her a weapon and sent her to the hardware store.” He answered. He noticed a reaction in the group, several people recognizing the name. The leader nodded faintly.

“Trisha. Good good. I'll have someone go get her.” He murmured, before blinking and regarding the boys again. “Blast it, I'm sorry. My name is Patrick. What are you boys doing in town?”

Dean's eyes snapped on to him from appraising their surroundings.

“I'm Dean, that's Sam. We heard there was trouble and headed this way to see if we could help out.” He stated shortly. One of the men in the group scoffed.

“Help? Those fucking things have killed three of our group! How the fuck do you think you'll be able to help?” He cried, his eyes bright in panic and exhaustion. Sam pursed his lips and glanced at Dean, but his brother was regarding Patrick. Finally, the older man nodded, seeming to come to a conclusion.

“Where did you serve?” He questioned, his tone warming. The group seemed to notice because most of the guns dropped off of them. Dean smiled easily.

“Hell, you?” Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes at the overuse of the line and looked away as Patrick started to chortle happily.

“Just about the same, boyo.” He agreed, causing Dean to flash him a tight smile.

“Say, we're missing one of our group as well. You haven't seen someone else that doesn't belong, have you?”

 

The shiver of unease that went through the group was not lost on either Sam or Dean. Patrick stared at them for a long moment, then sighed, looking at a distant building.

“Unfortunately, yeah. We traveled with him for a bit. Castiel, right?” He asked, glancing back at Dean. He saw the flicker of recognition in his face and nodded a little, his eyes drifting again. “Nice fellow...we got attacked by a bunch of those crazies and they managed to nab him and one of our women when they tried to be brave.”

 

Dean swallowed hard. Why did Cas always have to be fucking brave?

 

“Nab? Are they--”

“I don't think so. They got dragged off. If the fuckers were going to kill them, they'd have done it there, you'd think.”

 

Dean let out a growl and swore violently, kicking an errant rock. Patrick watched him curiously, his lips falling into a frown. Sam sighed.

“Dean...”

 

His brother turned and looked at him for a long hard moment and sighed, looking at Patrick

“Do you know where they are?”

Patrick nodded.

“Yes, of course. Come, we'll head back, get some more people and then--”

“I'd just prefer if you told us where they were taken.” Dean interrupted, his tone annoyed. Patrick gave him a look.

“Son, there's a swarm of those fuckers. You and your friend here can't go in there alone and expect to get out alive.”

“But--”

“Dean.” Sam looked at his brother seriously “He has a point.”

 

Dean sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Fuck. Fine, Sammy. You win.”

  
———

 

Castiel let out another grunt as the whip dug into his flesh. He was in the cellar of a half ruined house, his arms bound painfully over his head and tied to a floor joist. He was able to stand, barely, which made it so much worse as each lash struck through his body and his knees gave out, yanking his arms against their sockets horribly.

 

He felt the blood dribbling down his back, and tasted it pooling in his mouth from the brutal biting of his lips, an attempt to keep the screams in. They wanted him to scream and their lashes were getting harder and more cruel because he wasn't obliging. He wasn't going to oblige. He was stronger than that.. Castiel jerked as another lash bit into his back, biting back another scream.

 

As he focused on his pain, swallowing it down and pressing it away. Distantly, he heard one of the demons muttering to another, and there was scuffling. He heard one of them laugh and then his back was assaulted in an even more brutal way than before. It felt like he was being lashed with a bouquet of barbed wire.

 

Castiel couldn't help it as the scream tore from his throat with this new punishment. There was a chilling laugh and Castiel registered, barely, the sound of heels.

“There we go. We have been trying so hard to hear that delicious noise. Apparently it just took a Cat o' Nine Tails...” A woman purred. Castiel felt a hand touch his chin and he opened his eyes to be met with a lean blonde with cold blue eyes. He frowned, trying to ignore the burning of his back. The woman grinned a little.

“Heya Castiel.” She growled. Castiel looked at her blankly, his head bobbing as he struggled to keep it from falling back against his chest. The blonde pouted her remarkably thin lips. “Don't you recognize me? Oh that's right...you're not a real angel anymore...are you?”

 

Castiel felt his stomach clench angrily and he snarled softly.

“Meg.”

“Hello, sweetie. Did you miss me?” She cooed, looking at him demurely from under her lashes. Castiel growled and spat in her face, watching in satisfaction as she let out a scoff of anger, wiping the blood and spit off of her cheeks. She stared at the mess on her hand for a long minute, then struck him hard across the face. Castiel groaned as his cheek slammed into his arm, causing Meg to let out a gleeful laugh.

“You always had an attitude, angel.” She hissed, leaning close. Castiel's blue eyes, hazy in pain, locked onto her face and she gave a poisonous grin. “I wish I could kill you right here, right now...”

“So do it, bitch.” He growled lowly, narrowing his eyes at her. Her smile widened.

“Oh I can't, sweetie. Unfortunately...you're bait.” Her voice was innocent as could be as she looked at him. “See, the Winchesters are going to come here, looking for their little angel. And well. The rest of the plan is a big old secret.” She simpered, bouncing on her heels. “Strictly confidential, you know? But anyways...” She trailed off and looked at him, licking her lips. “I'm glad I can finally get a piece of you, Castiel. I've been wanting a bite since we first met.” She leaned closer, her eyes on his. “How about a taste for little ol' me, eh?”

 

Castiel stared at her, before slamming his head into hers. Meg stumbled back, a hand over her nose where her vessel was pouring blood like no tomorrow. Castiel grinned at the sight, his eyes dark with anger and pain. His head was throbbing, but he thought it was worth it just to see the shock in her eyes.

“Go to hell, bitch.”

 

Meg growled, dropping her hand as blood spouted from her nose, staining the flimsy white top. She let out a vicious snarl and swung back before slamming her fist into Castiel's nose. He heard a sickening crunch and his head jerked backwards as a white hot flash of pain froze his mind.

 

Distantly, Castiel felt the blood pouring down his own face in an interesting bout of karma. Through the fog, he heard Meg say something before a door in the corner slammed. There was a pleasant, hazy silence that felt like it lasted forever, as the searing pain made a nice jagged mark on his mind. However, the eternity of pleasant pain was savagely ripped away from him as it felt like the flesh on his back was rent from its place.

 

Castiel's reality came smashing back down around him as a scream echoed off the walls of the basement. Castiel was aware, somewhere, deep down, that the scream was his own, that there were now tears pouring down his face. The lashings continued for a long time, and Castiel felt his throat grow raw, before giving out completely. Finally, they stopped, far after the point where he thought the pain would drive him insane. The door slammed again and Castiel heard a pathetic whimper fall from his lips, his face sticky in blood.

 

 _“Cas.”_ Castiel groaned, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He wanted so much to pass out, to wake up, to have this all be some horrible nightmare. _“Cas.”_ However, it seemed the voice was very insistent. Castiel made a frustrated noise and he forced his eyes open. Dean was standing a few feet away. He was smiling. Castiel blinked numbly.

“D-dean?” His voice was so weak, so wrought with pain. He hardly believed it had come out of his mouth. Dean gave him a soft smile, the skin around his eyes crinkling.

 _“Hey man.”_ Dean said softly, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. _“You're not looking too hot, buddy. You ok?”_

 

Castiel grunted, his head dipping slightly as he stared dazedly at Dean.

“I'm fantastic, Winchester. Thank you for asking.” He slurred, his eyelids drooping. Dean's smile grew.

_“Sarcasm is always a good sign. Wise ass.”_

 

Castiel grunted again, forcing his eyes open.

“What are you waiting for...help me, Dean...” At those words, Dean's face and smile grew sad. The Winchester shook his head slightly.

 _“I can't, man.”_ Dean said softly, causing Castiel to let out another of those pathetic little whimpers as he stared pleadingly at Dean.

“Why not? Dean, please...”

 _“Cas...I'm not real.”_ Castiel's eyes snapped open completely and Dean gave him a sympathetic smirk, shrugging his shoulders. _“Sorry man...your mind is totally like...projecting me here for comfort or some shit.”_ Fake Dean broke off and gave a cocky wink. _“Must be cause you want something pleasant to look at. Should I do a strip tease for you or something?”_

 

Castiel laughed, but it turned into a hacking cough that created a very unpleasant, painful pressure in his chest.

“F-fuck... I think they b-broke a rib.” He gasped, causing fake Dean's forehead to crinkle in worry, his face turning serious.

_“Hang in there, man. I'm coming. You gotta know I'm coming for you, Cas.”_

 

Castiel gave a jerky nod, his eyes falling shut.

“I know...I do. I know you'll come.”

_“Of course I will, man. Anything for you.”_

“Dean...Dean, I love you...”

Castiel heard a soft laugh and could have swore he felt a hand against his cheek.

_“I love you too, Cas.”_

He opened his eyes slowly to be met with the sight of an utterly empty room. Castiel gave a half groan, half whimper.

“Dean...” But it was no good. He was alone in the basement once more. He let his eyes fall shut and focused on the feeling of blood dribbling down his back. “Winchester...hurry up... _please_.”

 

 


	8. Winchester

Dean stared at his plate uneasily. The townsfolk had gathered in the community center behind the church. Sam sat next to him, his own plate untouched as he gazed out at the cluster of cots. There had to be at least forty people left in the town, a good handful of them looked like they were useful with weapons. He glanced over at his brother, watching as the older Winchester pushed the chips around his plate without any real interest. He frowned and considered urging him to eat, but he knew all too well it would be hypocritical. His own stomach was clenched uneasily in worry and he didn't think he could even stomach the idea of eating. He could only imagine what his brother was going through.

 

Dean must have felt his staring, because suddenly Sam found green eyes staring back at him.

“What the fuck are you staring at, Sammy?” Dean snapped, his voice tired. Sam frowned and looked away, his eyes drifting back to the island of cots and the people milling between them.

“I'm just worried.” He replied, allowing Dean to figure the rest out. Dean sighed a little, before seeming to crumble a little and eating a couple of chips, shooting Sam a pointed look, his brows raising. Sam smiled faintly, before nodding a little and taking a couple bites of his sandwich. Their mutually forced lunch didn't last long, because Patrick was suddenly in front of their rickety table, his little lips pursed thoughtfully.

“We've gathered all the salt we could. What's it for, anyways?” He asked, raising a single brow at the brothers skeptically. Sam sighed and looked at his brother for an answer. Dean was gazing at Patrick intently, his lips set in a thin line. Suddenly, he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You know something weird is going on here, don't you?”

 

Patrick grinned faintly.

“Son, when my wife tried to rip my throat out and I had to beat her off with my dinner plate, I sort of got the idea, yeah.” He stated dryly. Dean tipped his head.

“Weird huh? How all of a sudden she seemed to be so...possessed.” Dean had a little smirk on his face and his tone was condescending, but the severity of the situation was blatant in his eyes. Patrick stared at him, his brows drawing in confusion.

“Boy, exactly what are you trying to say.” He snapped, causing any trace of amusement or joking to fall from Dean's face. The Winchester leaned in and stared up at the older man, giving him a tight, humorless smile.

“Demons.”

 

Patrick's face went through several emotionally charged expressions in such rapid succession that Sam rose his brows, feeling mildly impressed. Finally the man settled on one. Rage.

“Is this some sort of sick game to you, boy? Our families are dying out there.” Patrick growled, setting both of his hand on the table and leveling his eyes on Dean's. Dean just gave him a placid smile, despite the anger boiling in his green eyes.

“If you don't want to believe me, fine. But trust me. They're demons. They've possessed your loved ones, your shop clerks, hell, probably even a mailman or two. They're stronger than you ever imagined, and you have no chance without us. So sit down and shut up.” By the end of his tirade, Dean's voice had become a low growl and Sam was frowning as he looked between the two men, obviously expecting a confrontation. Finally, Patrick lowered himself into the chair across from them, his face dark.

“Who are you. Really.”

 

Dean tipped his head as Sam let out a little breath of relief.

“Sam and Dean Winchester.” At the glare Patrick shot him, Dean sighed. “This is sort of what we do.”

“Fight demons?”

“And vampires, ghosts, werewolves, shape shifters, hell even a coupla angels—OW!” Dean broke off and glared at Sam, who gave him a level look and turned his eyes to Patrick, smiling politely.

“We fight the things most people don't believe in. Let's just leave it at that.” He requested, prompting a dazed nod out of the ex-soldier. “Your town is crawling with demons. I know that's hard to swallow, but we don't have time to argue about it. We need to start clearing them out.”

 

Patrick's face lightened a little and he swallowed, licking his lips. He seemed uncomfortable with the idea that there were monsters outside, but he obviously recognized that the brothers had more knowledge about this than he did.

“Tell me what needs to be done.”

 

Dean straightened up, taking charge again.

“Salt at every opening in this building. Line it and don't leave gaps. Don't break the lines and keep everyone not capable of fighting inside. Bring us the left over salt, any water that can be spared, and anything you can find that is iron and can be used as a weapon.”

 

Patrick stared at him for a long moment, but he stood and walked off. Dean immediately swung around to face Sam.

“Why did you kick me!” He screeched petulantly. Sam stared at him like he was a small child, before scowling.

“Dean, the guy was already freaking out. You didn't need to lay it on so thick.” He grumbled. Dean scowled.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

 

The silence fell between them again, before Sam sighed.

“This is suicide, isn't it?” He asked, glancing at Dean. His older brother pursed his lips slightly, then nodded slowly.

“Probably.”

 

———

 

Within two hours, all the supplies had been gathered and Dean was helping some of the townsfolk fill their shotgun shells with rock salt as Sam sat over the water, blessing it all with a look of severe concentration. Not seconds after he finished the incantation, the doors leading into the gymnasium slammed open.

 

Sam and Dean swung around as a twitchy looking man jogged up to Patrick, his dirty lips moving a mile a minute. Dean walked over to Sam, his face curious. He glanced down at his brother.

“What do you think that’s all about?” He murmured, Sam looked up at him.

“We're about to find out.”

 

Patrick was making his way towards them, his face serious and his stride hurried. He came to a stop in front of the brothers, frowning.

“We have a situation.” Sam squinted at Patrick, and the older man shifted on his feet. “We have a new challenge. Franklin tells me a man has been spotted walking this way, and every crazy he comes in contact with dieswith barely any effort.” He whispered, his voice tight with panic. Sam felt his brows raise and he stood.

“Let's go check it out.” Dean muttered.

 

Sam wasn't waiting for his brother's approval, he was already half way across the room, his shot gun swung over his shoulder. He didn't think he'd need it, but he didn't want to be wrong and end up dead. Again. His heart was hammering in his chest at the possibility that—no. He wasn't going to get his hopes up.

 

He was faintly aware that Dean was calling him, but he ignored the sound until his brother was next to him, grabbing his arm roughly.

“Slow down, man! Why are you in such a rush?” Sam looked at his brother helplessly, and apparently something in his eyes clued his brother in, because Dean pursed his lips and stepped back, sighing. “Fine.”

 

Sam turned and shoved the front door open, stalking out. Dean and Patrick followed, with a handful of armed folks. The dirty lipped man sprinted up to the taller Winchester and peered up at him.

“He's about thirty yards west of here.” He squeaked, drawing Sam's intense gaze. Sam ignored the way the man shrunk away from his eyes, and nodded once, following Franklin's directions.

 

Sure enough, about thirty yards west was a group of demons, surrounded by even more corpses. There were shouts of anger and pain as the demons pressed in on their opponent. Dean raised his gun, his brows scrunched in concentration.

“Shoot. The salt will draw them off.”

With his command, a handful of shots rang out, and demons began to screech as the salt laden buckshot pierced their vessels. A few of the weaker demons fell to the ground, and the stronger ones were distracted just long enough for their opponent to overtake them in a bright flash of light.

 

Sam hissed and shielded his eyes, blinking the spots away. He heard his brother grunt and several of the others make similar noises of pain. When their vision cleared, they were met with the sight of Gabriel standing among a pile of corpses, blood staining his jeans and ratty tee shirt. Sam's heart swelled as he saw the archangel, his archangel, but he was consumed by a dark anger as he noticed the blood pouring from a few wounds across his torso. He started to walk forward, but Patrick caught his arm, leveling his shot gun at Gabriel.

“Don't son. This one is powerful. Dangerous.” The man grunted softly. Gabriel's honey colored eyes were skimming the group, and when they fell on Sam, they darkened. He stepped carefully over the bodies, his converse soaked in blood, and started towards them, obviously not caring about the dozen guns pointing at him.

 

Dean was snapped out of his shock by the sound of several guns being cocked and he turned, waving his arms.

“No, stop it. He's not a _threat_.” He shouted at the group, making Patrick looked at him incredulously.

“He just killed at least twenty of those so called 'demons' with barely any effort. How is he NOT A THREAT?!” He cried, his gun still leveled on the already healing chest of the approaching archangel. At his words, Gabriel looked at him and his lips curled into a tiny smirk, a gesture that made Sam whimper in need. He shoved Patrick's arm out of his way and strode forward, gathering the smaller man into his arms and kissing him desperately.

 

Dean sighed as the angel made a soft purr of approval and hung his arms around Sam's neck, leaning hungrily into the contact. The older Winchester wrinkled his nose in disapproval, before his eyes went to Patrick, who was staring at the men in shock.

“That answer your question?” He snapped. Patrick swallowed, nodding faintly.

“So what's this one?” The graying man choked, causing Dean to purse his lips.

“A very annoying archangel. And my brother in law.” He grumbled. Sam apparently heard him, because he broke out of the kiss and beamed at Dean. Gabriel made a grumpy noise at this, grabbing the taller man's chin and forcing him to look into his eyes.

“I just came all the way to Washington and walked through two miles of demons. Make goo goo eyes at your brother later.” He snapped, before pulling Sam down and claiming his lips again. Sam snorted into the kiss and Gabriel sighed, letting him go and pulling away. “Moment totally ruined.” With that, he turned and walked towards the group again, his eyes surveying each person carefully. “One Winchester, two Winchester...” He murmured, gesturing at Sam, then Dean. He paused and his lips fell into a frown as he crossed his arms. “Dean, where the hell is my baby brother?” Dean swallowed hard, his amusement at the previous situation shriveling in an instant. Gabriel watched as the Winchester looked away to avoid his eyes and he growled, stalking over. He grabbed Dean by his coat and pulled him close, forcing his face into the other man's and causing Dean to let out a shrill yelp. Gabriel paid it no mind, his eyes were blazing in anger. “Dean Winchester. Where. Is. Castiel.”

 

Sam grabbed Gabriel's shoulder and pulled him off of his brother.

“Gabe, let go.” He urged, wrapping an arm around his chest and pulling him beck. Gabriel let out a growl and Sam nodded sympathetically as the angel's back fell against his torso. “I know, babe. But it's not Dean's fault. I lost track of Castiel.”

 

Gabe paused, the anger in his eyes fading slightly as he turned to look at Sam. He regarded the truth in his lover's face, before giving a cry of frustration and stomping his foot.

“Where the fuck is he!? Why haven't you found him yet, Sam?”

 

Sam looked at Gabriel calmly, knowing this anger was only a reaction from the panic he was feeling.

 

“We were about to go look for him when we were told about you. Breathe. Let's go back to the community center and get you cleaned up.” Sam murmured, squeezing the angel's shoulder lightly. Gabriel growled again and shoved his hand away.

“No!” He spat, looking at his Winchester with furious eyes. “We're going to help him NOW. He's not invincible anymore, Sam! He can't fight them off by himself!” Sam stepped back, his lips falling into a frown. He looked at his brother for assistance, but instead of helping him out, Dean just shrugged meekly.

“I'm with Gabriel, Sam. We need to get Cas. Sooner rather than later.”

 

Sam made a frustrated noise as he slowly caved to their demands. He took a moment to be thankful that a few of the more perceptive townsfolk had thought to grab the stock of holy water, before he nodded faintly.

“Fine. Patrick, lead the way.”

 

Patrick gave a swift nod and turned, gesturing for the group to follow him. Gabriel fell into step next to Sam, and they walked in silence for a while before something occurred to him. He looked down at his lover and frowned.

“How'd they cut off our...link?” He murmured. Gabriel glanced up at him, his lips back in his trademark smirk, but his eyes weren't in it.

“Enochian Sigils. This town has been hidden from all angels, and all other communication has been terminated, probably by mortal methods. I was only able to find you because you told me the name of the town before you left.” He murmured, before returning his gaze to the road ahead of him. His lips were pursed and Sam could see the cogs turning in his head. “I don't understand why they went through such great lengths to hide this town, but not to bar the featherheads access. Seems kind of...silly.”

 

Sam frowned and shrugged, before slipping his arm around Gabriel's waist and pulling him close, savoring the contact.

“Maybe they didn't expect me to tell everything to an archangel.” He offered, causing Gabriel to grunt softly as he leaned into Sam's side.

“Maybe...but some how I don't think the answer is that simple.” He murmured, before looking up at Sam seriously. “I can't help but think that they _wanted_ me here.”

 

 


	9. Calm Before The Storm

Castiel wasn't sure how long he had been out, before his fellow prisoner woke him with her angry little grunts of pain. Castiel blinked, grimacing at the feeling of dried blood covering practically every inch of his body, but he was thankful that his pain had dulled to a throbbing that he could push to the back of his mind. He shifted, craning his head and trying to see the other person the demons had captured.

 

He tried to call out, but his throat simply refused to work beyond allowing useless squeaking noises. He forced himself to swallow, wincing as the lump of broken glass and sandpaper made its way down his throat. Then he licked his chapped lips with his painfully dry tongue and tried again. This time his effort was not in vain.

“Colleen?” He croaked, his throat protesting angrily against even that simple usage. The movement on the other side of the room stilled.

“Castiel?” A soft voice asked. Castiel sighed in relief, recognizing the soft soprano of the girl just out of her teenage years.

“Have they hurt you?” He called, tugging in frustration at his bonds. Colleen made a soft noise, and Castiel heard the clinking of chain as she stepped into view. The dim light that was filtering through the only window gave her a ghostly, sick look. Colleen was tall and slim, with a girlish face covered in freckles and long auburn hair that stuck out at funny angles.

 

She looked much better than Castiel felt, and the former angel was distinctly grateful for that. Colleen was still full of bullheaded youth that made her take too many chances with too little preparation and Castiel felt oddly protective of the young woman. But Colleen was smart and an agile fighter, which made most of his worrying unnecessary.

“A few lumps and bruises. They didn't treat me like a princess, but they were definitely more focused on you.” She murmured, continuing towards him until her chain was taut. She stood perhaps five feet from Castiel and looked up at him with dark chestnut eyes. “They...hurt you really bad, didn't they?” She added softly, and for a moment, Castiel saw the child inside Colleen, the fear she held and the protection she sought from him as her elder. Castiel gave her the best smile he could, and shook his head.

“I've been through worse.” He assured her, before squinting and looking up at the roof, trying to figure out some way to get his arms free. Colleen made a noise of disbelief, then sighed.

“Why were they so focused on you?” She wondered, causing Castiel's eyes to flit back to her. The former angel gave a dry smile.

“My friends and I have caused them a lot of trouble in the past. This was no doubt some form of revenge.”

 

Colleen gave him a look, then sighed again and shook her head.

“These people are insane. But I don't understand it, I recognize all of them. The one giving you lashings was my High School algebra teacher.” She breathed. Castiel noticed how her voice had gone higher and her speech pattern was quickening, but he didn't take his attention off of his bonds. “I don't recognize the blond though. She's not from here. But that doesn't matter, what happened to my town?”

 

Castiel sighed and dropped his eyes to meet Colleen's, frowning a little at the panicking girl.

“It's been overrun by demons.” He stated, falling back into his blunt attitude. Things were dark and he didn't have the time, nor the energy, to sugar coat things. Colleen made a choking sound as the blue eyes rose back to the floor joist.

“Demons? But...demons don't--”

“Exist? Oh, I can assure you, they do.” Castiel interrupted, his voice sounding distracted. Colleen scowled at him.

“That's not what I was going to say.” She snapped. This unusual response caused Castiel to pause and give Colleen a surprised look, which the redhead reciprocated with an expression he distinctly recognized from Sam when he dealt with Dean. “They obviously do, if they're here, right?” She explained slowly, her voice soft. “I went through the whole Wicca, witchcraft, goth thing a few years back. Did a lot of research, even got my hands dirty a few times. This is my first time encountering demons, though.” She murmured, looking down at the chain around her ankle and giving it an experimental tug. “I just thought demons had to be summoned by someone. The whole ritual thing...”

 

Castiel blinked slowly and licked his lips, absorbing all of Colleen's words.

“They don't necessarily need to be summoned, as you can probably tell.” He replied simply. He took a moment to be grateful that Colleen wasn't resisting the idea or panicking, before he pressed his face into an expression of determination. “Colleen, do you have anything we can use to get out of here?”

 

There was a pause, before Colleen slipped her hand into her shirt and produced a slim silver razor knife. Castiel felt himself grin, but it was short lived as he realized there was no way to get the razor from her hand to his. Colleen seemed a few steps ahead of him, looking around for some solution. She sighed softly, and an idea slowly occurred to Castiel.

 

“Colleen, what are you bound to?”

“A pipe.” She murmured softly, before pursing her lips. Castiel nodded

“See if you can break it.”

 

Colleen blinked, then obediently turned and wandered back into the shadows. Castiel heard the sound of metal on metal and nodded in satisfaction. His eyes went back to the floor joist above him and he grumbled in annoyance

“This is going to hurt...” He growled, before standing as tall as he could, his toes straining to hold his weight. He grunted softly, before he allowed his legs to simply buckle beneath him.

 

Castiel yelped in pain as the joist creaked in protest and his arms were jerked painfully against their sockets. He snarled, letting the pain die down a moment, before he forced himself to stand up and try again. After four more tries, there was a sudden crack and the joist snapped down the center, depositing Castiel roughly on the floor in a blanket of dust. He coughed, groaning softly, but he only allowed himself a moment to recover, pushing away his pain and struggling to his feet. The demons were bound to have heard something, whether it be the joist giving away, him crying out in pain, or Colleen's attempts to break free from the pipe. With that thought looming in his mind, Castiel hurried over to Colleen.

“Quickly.” He hissed, giving her a serious look as he shoved his still bound wrists toward her. She turned from yanking at the pipe and retrieved her razor, making quick work of shearing at his bonds. Castiel tried to stand still for her, but between the adrenaline and pain, he was buzzing. The razor bit into his wrists a couple of times, but he barely noticed the stinging even as blood began to seep out of the wounds and add to his already impressive amount of blood loss.

 

Colleen sheathed her knife, knitting her brows in confusion.

“Now what?”

 

However, Castiel didn't hear her. He was already on his way over to the pipe to examine it for any weak spots. It was a sturdy pipe, roughly 4 inches in diameter and looked solid. Castiel couldn't help but frown as his original plan to just break the pipe and pull the chain out, withered and died. He glanced at Colleen to see her watching him, a sliver of fear on her face as she shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other.

 

He wasn't going to give up on this girl.

 

The former angel let out a growl and turned, making his way through the cellar in a weaving, sort of haphazard path. To his delight, just by the stairs was a small work bench filled with tools and other maintenance supplies. His eyes scanned over the saw, deeming it too slow, and the myriad of drills and screwdrivers and _six different hammers_. Who needed so many **hammers**? Finally his eyes fell upon a large ax, leaning against the rough wood of the bench. He couldn't help but grin as he reached down and grabbed it, before turning and rushing (rather drunkenly) to Colleen.

 

The girl saw the ax and she smiled, shifting to hold the chain taut. Castiel nodded in approval, his eyes starting to glaze over.

“Stand still. The closer, the better.” He said softly, causing Colleen to nod faintly, shifting her stance to give him more room. Castiel squinted in concentration, lining the ax up, before drawing it back and swinging it back down as hard as he could.

 

The chain broke with a burst of sparks and Castiel beamed, grabbing Colleen and hugging her tightly. She laughed, then gently shoved him away.

 

“They'll have heard us. What now?”

 

Castiel looked at her for a moment, his pain and loss of blood finally catching up to him as his adrenaline faded. He swallowed, swaying slightly on his feet, sweat beading on his brow. There was no way he could fight like this, and Colleen couldn't make it out alone. He grunted, shaking his head and trying to push away the dizziness.

“You need...salt.”

 

Colleen listened intently to his words, then blinked as Castiel fell to the floor in a heap. She bit her lip and frowned, looking at him closely. He was still breathing.

 

She took that as good enough for the moment, and rushed through the basement, looking for some form of salt. In a corner, not far from the work bench, she found a collection of snow shovels, rakes, deicer, and...a bag three quarters full of rock salt. A grin slipped onto her face and she lugged the bag up, hurrying to the door and lining it evenly with salt.

 

All those websites had taught her a little something, at least.

 

She made sure to give the tiny window the same treatment, before walking over to Castiel, placing the ax within reach. She paused, before making a wide circle around Castiel as a last defense. She nodded in satisfaction, then sat on the cold cement floor next to him. She looked at Castiel, before pulling him closer and setting his head on her leg, very careful to keep the weight off his back.

 

Colleen looked down at him for a long moment, carefully pressing the hair out of his face and shaking her head.

“You're a weird dude, Castiel. I just hope your friends actually exist outside your mind and are on their way here.”

 

———

 

The house that Patrick led them to was a cute little two story colonial with prim green shutters. Dean turned to Patrick with incredulous eyes.

“You're trying to tell me that this is where they're hiding?”

 

Patrick turned a blank gaze onto the hunter.

“Boy, why would I joke about something like this?” Dean frowned at the older man and crossed his arms, glancing at his brother.

“Just seems so...normal for a demon hideout.”

“Winchester, do you ever stop talking?” Gabriel spat, pulling away from Sam and squinting at the house. “This is the place alright. Gotta be at least twenty inside...” He trailed off and glanced at the brothers, who exchanged a look. Patrick watched the trio with a confused frown,

“What?”

“A group of twenty demons?” Dean turned to him, his face hard. “Something is going on and it's not as simple as they want us to believe.”

 

Almost as soon as those words left his mouth, there was the bloodcurdling screech of a demon in pain. Dean hissed and shielded his ears, eyes searching for the source. Gabriel frowned and looked towards a basement window.

“I think the party started without us.”

 


End file.
